


A New Sun

by Aella_Antiope, nekoshojo



Series: Mondlicht [6]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Angst, Babies, Family, Fanart, Future Fic, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aella_Antiope/pseuds/Aella_Antiope, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoshojo/pseuds/nekoshojo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s common knowledge to everyone how much Wolfram loves children, so starting a family should be an easy decision.  It’s not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly never thought I’d do a babyfic, but it seemed right in the universe and it fits into where the story will eventually go. This isn’t so much a babyfic, but a story about Murata and Wolfram's decision to have a baby with a bit of Yozak side-story. Baby gets a cameo. His story will come later...
> 
> All the lovely art is by nekoshojo. 
> 
> As for the writing, I'd like thank nekoshojo, lunarsensitive and averisen for betaing and advice respectively. Of course, all typos are mine. (seems impossible to remove them all and writing is hard. Seriously every time I look there is one, so I know they are forever lurking, this is why I never read old fic!).

“I think you should consider having a child.”

Murata had said in what Wolfram had come to think of as the, ‘I’m being reasonable and am happy to talk about it voice’, that was, depending on the circumstances, supportive or as annoying as a sharp pebble in his boots.

Murata had said this after he’d taken his bath and was checking his bags. Tomorrow, he’d be going out on patrol, a short trip to the northern barracks to assist Brother with the armoury stocktake. It wasn’t often that he was out on the field with his oldest brother and he wanted to make sure his conduct was flawless, and that meant making sure his equipment was in perfect order.

His obsessive careful inventory had been ruined with those words.

It took him a moment to process it. His husband was sitting on the edge of the bed, and had been relatively silent, watching him as he’d emptied and repacked his saddle pack. 

“I don’t wish to have a child.” Wolfram crossed his arms as he turned to Murata, feeling defensive, he really hadn’t see this coming. “Do _you_ want a child?” 

Because…maybe that’s what Ken wanted.

“Not for myself,” Murata said. “I do not wish to sire one. But I would welcome a child of yours.” Murata watched him carefully. When Wolfram spoke he always had Ken’s undivided attention. It sometimes was a little nerve-wracking. Though at least he never felt like he was being ignored, and Wolfram hated that more than anything.

“Has Uncle Waltorana spoken to you?” He asked, and pushed the bag aside and sat down on the bed next to Murata. He didn’t want this conversation, but he didn’t think he could avoid it. “I don’t need an heir. I will find someone in the family one day, just like my Uncle has.”

“It has nothing to do with that, Wolfram. I saw you today playing with the children. You love them, you loved raising Greta. I think you would love having a child of your own.”

“I’m too busy to have a child,” Wolfram said. “Now I’m focusing on my career.” It was still nothing more than miraculous that Murata would allow him that freedom, though Ken would shake his head as if such a thing was of no consequence when Wolfram expressed his gratitude. 

“Good thing you have a partner who can help,” Murata said with a small smile, and placed a hand on top of his. 

“But you don’t want a child.”

“I don’t want to _sire_ a child, Wolfram. But I would love to help you raise your child. But only if that is what you _truly_ want.”

Wolfram wanted children for as long as he could remember. But he had quietly given up such ideals when he fell in love with the Sage. He’d been hopelessly innocent in such matters when he was engaged to Yuuri. 

“I do not wish to couple with anyone else,” he admitted quietly.

“I would understand,” Murata said. “It’s a practical solution.”

“But even so…”

He got up and continued packing, signalling that he didn’t want to talk about it further. His husband dropped the subject.

~***~

The day of the patrol was overcast, with an ominous cold wind from the south. There was hardly any light from the window even though the sun had risen an hour earlier.

“It will certainly rain,” he grumbled as Ken helped him with his outfit. He wasn’t a morning person and always felt cranky for an hour or so after waking early, even after a good night’s sleep. The fact that Murata, usually the same, was all calm smiles made him even crankier. The man was so exasperating.

“Undoubtedly,”’ Murata agreed as he finished straightening Wolfram’s collar and then giving him an affectionate peck on the cheek.

“You need not sound so cheerful about it,” he grumbled as he sheathed his sword.

“Oh but I will, you’re only away for three days. That is something I can feel cheerful about.”

His husband had a point, most of his patrols were at least two months, sometimes longer.

“I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Ken said, and gave him another kiss before bringing him into a hug. “Keep doing what makes you happy.” There was a pause. “And, just think about what I said last night. About a child.”

Wolfram sighed as Murata pulled away. It was hard to deny Murata anything, especially since he asked very little of him. “I will think on it.”

~***~

Wolfram felt pride when he reached the courtyard and his men stood to attention. Pride at his men’s conduct and that the Sage was here to see him off.

Ken could be embarrassing sometimes, would say embarrassing things to him (most fortunately in private), but his public acts of affection pleased him.

' _See_ ,' he would think to everyone present, ‘ _My husband is one of the most powerful men in this kingdom, and he cares for me enough that he sees me off on every patrol, even trivial ones like this.’_

“Cute,” Murata commented softly as he approached his Brother. Gwendal was mounted on his horse with his two daughters. The littlest in his arms while the other sat astride the dark warhorse.

 

‘Uncle Wolf _wam_ ,’ Evelina chirped as she spotted Wolfram and reached down for him. 

Fat little toddler arms reached around his neck, and he got a little kiss as he pulled her into his arms. “Can I come with you and Papa?” She asked, sweetly. Her curly red hair had escaped from the binding, tumbling every which way.

“Evelina von Voltaire,” Anissina’s voice rang stridently through the courtyard. “There is no point in wheedling your way with your spineless Uncle.”

Wolfram had to bite his tongue. Anissina was such a harangue.

“Mama,” the girl said, tears gathering. 

“When you’re older you can come with us,” Wolfram told her quietly. 

“When?” The little girl asked plaintively. 

“When you’re as tall as here,” he indicated his shoulders. 

“Promise,” little lips were tight in a pout. 

“I promise,” Wolfram said solemnly. “A Bielefeld never breaks a promise. Now you must go to your mother.” He gave the little child a kiss and put her down and she scampered up the stairs.

He turned to see Murata look at him with a soft expression. 

“Do you want children for yourself, not just because I wanted one?" Wolfram asked softly, repeating the question from last night. It wasn’t the right time, and Wolfram wasn’t usually one to ask such questions in public but…

Ken looked faintly surprised. “Maybe I do, we’ll talk about it later?”

Wolfram sucked in a breath and nodded.

~***~

They stopped at a lake later in the day to water the horses and rest.

Brother was watching some ducks when he went to report to him. It was a small moment of peace and calm, this area of the kingdom was well patrolled and relatively safe. The weather had cleared up quite nicely and there were only a few clouds around.

  
  


“We should make it to the barracks ahead of schedule if this holds up.” Brother pointed to the sky.

Wolfram nodded. He thought of Murata as he had left, just like every time he’d gone on patrol he’d reach his hand down for Murata’s kiss on the back of the hand – the most affection he’d ever allow in public. 

This time Ken had given him a small lopsided smile, not the usual happy wide smile. It seemed both of them had things to think about.

“Brother,” he said. “Do you think I would make a good father?” He could feel his face going red at asking such a question, but he knew whatever his eldest brother would say, would be dependable advice. Brother was the most practical person in his family.

Gwendal frowned. “Of course, your daughter would agree as well.” 

Greta…but Greta had come to them when she was ten, and she’d been such a good child, so cheerful and happy. He didn’t know if anything he’d done since had had much impact, and virtually the entire castle had raised her. He wasn’t quite sure if he could take any credit for how well she turned out, or for any effort on his part.

But having a baby, raising a child from infancy seemed like such an overwhelming prospect. Certainly, he’d always wanted to have children, but now he was confronted with the reality he wasn’t sure if he had the confidence, even with Murata’s help. And that wasn’t counting the awful logistics of how they could even have one.

“We’re thinking of having a child,” he confided to his brother.

“Oh…” Gwendal said, but kept gazing out onto the lake.

“Murata said that I would love having children, and that I would be happy having one of my own. Siring a child, I mean,” he stumbled over those words. Not an adopted child, but one of his own. His own blood. And in the eyes of the nobility, the one thing that held the most legitimacy in inheritance. Even Gisela was known to be a bastard cousin of Günter’s, a result of his uncle’s womanising and adopted by Günter to give her respectability. Still a von Christ by blood. 

“Is what he says true? Would it make you happy?” Gwendal asked simply, he still hadn’t looked at him. 

Was it? He couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

“Then you should do what makes you happy,” his Brother said in a stilted fashion. Wolfram nodded, he didn’t expect that his Brother would speak further on it, but his advice, sparse as it was, helped.

_Keep doing what makes you happy_

You sound just like Ken, Wolfram thought. Would it truly make him happy? Would it be worth the effort, worth the pain of being unfaithful? That was something he couldn’t ask his Brother.

“It’s not easy, raising children,” Gwendal added brusquely as he turned to walk back to the horse with Wolfram following him. “But it’s worth it.”

~***~

The trip had been successful. Wolfram felt he’d comported himself well, and the mission had been rather uneventful. Even the weather was perfect, until they almost hit the home straight when it dumped rain on them.

Typical. But at least it wasn’t as late as he got up to their rooms.

Murata had already started the bath when he entered, dragging his heels. His husband stood up from next to the tub and gave him a smile. 

“I’m back,” Wolfram said tiredly.

“Welcome back,” Ken returned softly and then helped him peel off his clothes.

They didn’t speak as Murata helped remove his wet jacket, shirt and trousers. That was one thing he was starting to appreciate, the value of silence in their relationship – in these moments, he didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or stifling. It felt …like home.

He got into the bath and closed his eyes as Murata rinsed his hair in warm water and then lathered it gently, the pads of his fingers felt very good.

“Was it a good trip?”

“Hmmmm…” Wolfram said, and Ken chuckled. 

He allowed Murata to finish rinsing his hair off and then, as always, dragged him off to bed.

It was nice under the covers as Murata curled around him, and he felt himself drifting to sleep but Ken was gently kissing his collarbone and he couldn’t ignore that.

“Mmmm…that’s…”

“Nice?”

“Mmmm…”

There was sweet little shivers going up his spine and his skin was breaking out in goose bumps. Though he was still feeling weary, sleep was going to be now impossible until his body was sated.

Murata pulled back and said in a concerned voice. “Do you want me to stop? I wouldn’t want to disturb your rest?” His husband could be such a tease.

With a flicker of his fingers he lit the candles in the lantern on the side-table, the better to watch what his husband would do next. 

“If you stop _now_ , I shall never forgive you.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” Ken said in a mild voice, but the amusement underneath was scarcely hidden. Wolfram wanted to smack him on the head for such cheek, and at the same time kiss him breathless. He was saved any deliberation on the matter when Murata moved further down and simultaneously bit his right hip at the juncture of his thigh and gave his erection a soft squeeze.

The sensations were delicious, the bite made the pleasure on his cock that much more intense.

Even without thought he leaned up, a hand curling around the back of Murata’s head and guiding him down.

Murata chuckled again, but obliged and in one smooth, wet glide took Wolfram’s cock down his throat deep and swallowed. 

Murata worked his body skilfully, using his tongue with toe-curling effectiveness and Wolfram practically sobbed at the sensation. 

It was good. But it wasn’t what he really wanted, not tonight. He pulled at Ken’s hair and with a wet sound his husband pulled back, releasing his erection with a plop.

Murata looked at him questioningly. “ _Ride_ me…I want…” Wolfram couldn’t complete the sentence, suddenly overcome with mortification that he had said as much. He usually wasn’t so outspoken with his desires, instead he’d come to trust Ken’s seemingly supernatural ability to read him. Murata was always so good at anticipating what he wanted. Sometimes giving him things he didn’t even know he wanted.

Murata gave him a pleased smile. “You want me to ride your cock?”

Wolfram could only nod forcefully, all words used up with his embarrassing demand.

His husband leaned down and kissed his wet shaft and then scrambled to get the thin condoms that Wolfram, a fan of cleanliness, had learned to love over the years. 

It didn’t take long, with practiced ease the condom was sheathed, along with oil. Wolfram would never get tired of the look on Murata’s face as he pushed down slowly on his cock. 

This wasn’t a common position of theirs, Wolfram liked to have more control and Ken was happy to give it to him, but it was something he enjoyed occasionally when he was exhausted, having Murata do all the work while he could lie there. It made him feel very lazy and spoilt, and sometimes that wasn’t such a bad thing.

It also gave him a better opportunity to study Murata’s face.

“You’re always so big,” Ken said breathlessly. “You fill me up so much, it’s so _good_.” 

Wolfram groaned in response to his husband’s words.

Murata’s lewd words might be embarrassing, but his body loved it. Then, Murata started riding him in earnest, leaning forward for better stimulation, and as always pushing away Wolfram’s hand as he rocked up and down on his cock, leaning on Wolfram’s chest for leverage. Wolfram knew it was because he enjoyed the slow build-up, Murata confessed all these things to him in bed, but it was so hard to remember with such delightfully tight friction around his cock, he wanted to make Murata feel just as good.

After a few moments, Murata took his own erection in his hand, masturbating fast as he kept riding him. And all through this, Murata’s dark eyes kept watching him, half-lidded as he pleasured himself on Wolfram’s cock and with his own hand. It was just as much that look, as the tight friction on his cock that took Wolfram over the edge.

Wolfram cried, coming very hard. He was no longer in control of his body. His hips pushed up into Murata’s tight warmth, once and then twice. Distantly, he could feel the hot splatter of Murata’s essence on his chest as his husband came as well, now only rocking on him gently as Wolfram started to soften.

As many times before, especially after coming home from patrol, Wolfram started to fall into a drowse as he let Murata take care of him. He was fast asleep even before Murata had finished and settled under the covers with him.

~***~

Wolfram woke first, this was unusual on days when they both had a free morning. And even when Wolfram had an early start Ken invariably was up before him, often waking him up.

But this morning, Murata was still fast asleep. He was on his side facing Wolfram, one hand loosely clutching the sleeve of Wolfram’s nightgown. Wolfram blinked sleepily as he regarded his husband’s face. Thick black locks, glossy in the soft morning light fanned down onto his cheek. Wolfram gently brushed them aside so he could study his face more easily.

That slight movement had his husband’s eyes opening slowly, recognition immediate if dull.

“Morning,” Murata mumbled.

“Hi,” Wolfram replied, and felt curiously shy, so odd considering how long he’d been married to the man, and what they had been doing just the night before, to feel such acute embarrassment now.

Ken gave him a soft smile and then repeated again. “Morning, love.”

How easily that rolled off Murata’s tongue. His husband draped his arm over Wolfram’s waist.

“I-” Wolfram closed his eyes, he had something to say but he wasn’t quite ready yet. Instead he rested his cheek against Murata’s side and closed his eyes as Ken’s fingers lazily combed his hair and then gently massaged his scalp. Long fingers, he liked that about his husband, long fingers, the lilt of his voice…and his smell. He inhaled it, a mixture of pine and grass. 

They lay like that, for perhaps ten minutes before Wolfram spoke. “I want to have a child. I want us to have a child.”

“Then we will have a child,” his husband answered as if Wolfram had just asked Murata if he could change the colour of the curtains.

“You say it so calmly.”

“I guess it’s because it’s something I’ve always considered. Remember I mentioned it when I courted you?”

“I didn’t think you were being serious,” Wolfram said quietly.

“I was serious about everything I told you then.”

“A promise?”

Murata’s fingers stilled and then curved around to rub his ear lobe. “A promise. Always.”

“I think…I think I want one, I want us to have a child. But I need some time to think about it. Can you…let me do that? It might take a while though. I’m not sure how long.”

”Take as long as you want. There is no urgency.”

Wolfram buried his head against Murata’s side and said no more.

~***~

Wolfram had quickly realised that there were some things that his husband did not wish to talk about.

He could understand in part, there were things he didn’t want to talk about himself, his mother for one, the years of the war for another, or, and most importantly, anything about his past or current feelings about Yuuri. Murata never asked, and none of those subjects were ever raised unless he brought them up.

Naturally, Wolfram was the selfish type, he wanted to know everything about his husband– but…well, there were some things he wasn’t really able to face for various reasons, and fortunately, those were the same things that Murata rarely spoke about. His husband’s memories of past life, for one. Anecdotes were dropped now and again from Ken about that time, like precious gems – they were interesting tales, of other people in fantastic lands. He was sure that some of the ‘fairy-tales’ he told Wolfram’s nieces were based (at least in part) on those lives, so rich were the details of the world Ken weaved in his tales. 

But it wasn’t all good, for there were the nightmares. Those nightmares, or more like night terrors didn’t happen very often, but from little he garnered in those vulnerable moments as he held Murata tightly and soothed him as the man shook and sometimes leaked tears on his nightgown, they were memories that Wolfram didn’t want to know, though he wasn’t proud of such cowardice. Memories of death, memories of torture and all the horror that humans inflicted on each other. Things that Wolfram didn’t think he was brave enough to face or possibly understand, a cowardice that Murata allowed him, because it matched his husband’s reluctance to share.

Once, only a month or so after they had married, Ken had told him, a little intoxicated from wine, that it was Wolfram that made him feel connected to this life. “I want to live this life, and you… who you are, tie me to the now. I _need_ that. Those things I know here,” Murata had placed one long finger between the dark fringes of his forehead, “help the kingdom, help keep us safe, but I don’t want to dwell on those memories. Sometimes, I think you help keep me distant from them. No, I _know_ you help me keep those nightmares at bay.”

The other thing they never discussed was the Great One. Wolfram had complicated feelings about Shin Makoku’s God and his great ancestor. As a child, he had worshipped Shinou dutifully, blind in his faith, and proud that Shinou had been one of the earlier progenitors of the noble family he was born into. He’d been proud when people had compared him to Shinou when he was younger, thinking, in his naivety, how true the blood flowed in his veins of the first king of their noble kingdom. That absolute faith had been shaken after Shinou had been corrupted, had possessed him, used him to harm Yuuri, to harm all he knew and loved. And, for a time he’d also had mixed feelings about Murata’s part in this, as Great Sage and Shinou’s high priest.

Wolfram no longer prayed to the Great One, would only leave tributes to the roadside shrine for the sake of his men. Would follow the rituals if necessary, but that was all. Ritual, just a husk without any substance.

Now he no longer blamed Murata for those times, he’d let that go years before his engagement to the king had dissolved, but he could never regain his faith in Shinou. And, Wolfram wasn’t quite able to reconcile his husband, the man he loved with Daikenja, the man who had commonly been thought to be the first King’s lover and confidant. Wolfram didn’t allow himself to think of that. Would wilfully shy away from such thoughts. Murata was his. _His_ alone. He had to believe that whatever was left of Daikenja in his husband was no longer Shinou’s to possess. He needed to believe it. Wolfram could not compete with a God, though if he had to, he would, he would do anything for Murata.

But for the most part, he refused to even consider that possibility, and Murata’s devotion made it easy not to.

It had been years since Wolfram had set eyes on Shinou, though at times he was sure he could feel his presence. That really wasn’t any surprise considering his relationship with Murata, and the fact that they spent part of the year living at his temple. Wolfram knew that Murata spoke to Shinou, how much, he didn’t know – and that was because Murata never told him.

Wolfram never asked. He truly didn’t want to know.

But it was something he thought that he might have to bring up, eventually, as he considered the logistics of siring a child.

Just as soon as he had the courage to face the conversation.

~***~

Yozak was summoned to Murata’s office at the temple late one afternoon. All the trees on the temple ground had shed their leaves, leaving behind black skeletons which looked menacing in the winter twilight, surrounding the temple at this time of year like an army of emaciated monsters. All the signs were pointing to a long and fierce winter. He hoped that Lord von Bielefeld would be able to make it back on his last patrol of the year and not get stuck in some village for the season. He’d been due back last week, but he’d caught up in chasing down some bandits. Yozak wasn’t too fond of having to work with a grumpy Sage if the young lord could not make it.

Murata had decided to spend the winter in the castle for the first time ever. It was too late in the year for Yozak to go anywhere, so that’s where he’d be stationed as well. Something he’d rarely done before. Yozak wasn’t looking forward to the winter stay either way, but he’d rather spend time with a happy Sage. He wanted to get some drinking time out of his friend.

He found the Sage in his study, a room that wasn’t quite as cluttered as it was before he married. The little lord brat, if you could call him that now, had certainly put energy in keeping the Sage’s life a little more ordered. 

Murata looked up as he entered, and gave him a lopsided grin.

“Good evening, your Eminence,” he sat down at Murata’s nod, one thing he’d always liked about the boy, he never was one for formality. Quite the opposite of his husband, really, though if that caused any serious tension in their marriage, Yozak had yet to see any sign of it.

Without any word, or any small talk Murata pushed parchment over to him. He picked it up and studied it carefully. There was a short list of families, only one, the von Christ family was major, the rest were lessor nobility.

“I want you to investigate these families. Check to see if there is anything that would compromise our security, most especially any history of insanity or addiction”

“Hmm…you looking to appoint someone?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Murata said, but didn’t elaborate. Something told Yozak that asking wouldn’t get him any further answers. 

“The von Christs are reliable. You still want me to investigate them?”

“Please,” Murata said, and then a pause. “You never know what interesting things are buried.” Which was true enough, else Yozak would be out of a job.

“This family has debt due to their summer crops failing twice.” Yozak pointed to the house that was on top of the list. “And this one.” He pointed to the next one. “Has a dispute with the Radfords. Minor matters for now.” Though he had a feeling Murata would have known this.

“Hmmm,” Murata said looking out of the window. Murata seemed preoccupied as he responded vaguely with a wave, “Of course I’d want you to give me a more detailed report on these issues.”

Yozak went down the list, making mental notes. At least half of the families on the list had various minor issues. The other half were families who he knew had ambition. Ambition could be dangerous. Did Murata hope to bribe somebody? He was about to raise that topic when there was the flurry of feathers and a bird landed on the perch next to the window. 

Murata got up with much more eagerness than Yozak was used to seeing him deal with a bird-courier, those typically meant an urgent summons to the castle for some emergency or other, in other words fixing some annoying mess. Murata unravelled the scroll, giving the bird a quick scratch as he quickly scanned the letter.

The Sage looked up, giving Yozak a genuine smile which made him look so very happy and young, and gave hims a twinge of envy, “Looks like I’ll be returning with you, Yozak. My husband has returned from patrol.”

~***~

It always ended up this way. After all this time Yozak should know better. He stared up at the ceiling as the captain snoozed next to him. The frigid winds battered against the shutters, he wouldn’t be surprised to find snow in the morning. It had been freezing when he and the Sage had entered the castle’s courtyard earlier.

It was the scene that had brought him back to Conrad’s bed, to seek something he knew he’d not find.

Lord Wolfram had come out of the stables, walking briskly as he approached them. The boy was still in his riding gear, his cheeks red from the cold and his green eyes bright. By the fates, this boy had been blessed in looks, nobody could deny that. For a moment there, Yozak had thought that the lord would fling himself into Murata’s arms, which would have been quite a change in character, an over the top sign of affection, but in the last minute Wolfram had seemed to restrain himself and only clasped Murata’s hands.

“Welcome home, my husband,” Murata had said.

“I’m glad to be here,” The blond lord had responded and they had stood there for a few seconds, fingers entwined as they stared at each other. It was then that Yozak had slipped away. Four years now those two had been married, four years and they were still so nauseatingly sweet. Anyone that even spent a second around them who thought it was a political match was an idiot.

Yozak was happy for them, was very happy for Murata. He’d seen how isolated the dark haired boy had been, so unlike the king whose easy charm attracted people easily. The Sage…well, he was charming, it was true and he had attracted many to his bed, but he had an aura that kept away meaningful connections. The king and the oracle were the only ones who came close to being his friend, and Yozak wasn’t sure how close that was, how much of himself he revealed to those close to him.

Yozak was a master of obfuscation and deception, it was his trade, and he could sense a fellow professional in the Sage, indeed he knew he was outclassed in many ways by the boy. It was a little unsettling and the only thing that had convinced him that this double-black child was indeed the reincarnation of the first Sage. Nobody that young could have so much knowledge and so much command in the matters of intrigue. For the kingdom’s sake he was glad Murata was on their side. 

So Yozak was glad for him when he’d fallen in love with Wolfram. It was the last person he’d have thought would have taken the Sage’s interest, but it was a relationship that worked. _'It’s so nice..._ ,' he had thought as he’d seen the way that Wolfram’s eyes had lit up as soon as he’d spotted his husband, _'to have someone at home to return to.'_

Yozak had never had a serious relationship. Conrad was as close as he’d come to…something like that. But that had never been more than a quick tumble, less than that these days. The king had relied even more on the Captain after the engagement to Wolfram had dissolved, and not even his later marriage to Lady Claudia had changed that. King Yuuri was Conrad’s entire world. There was nothing left over for Yozak. He wasn’t even enjoying the sex anymore.

He got up suddenly and started dressing.

“Leaving so soon?” Conrad drawled.

“Well,” Yozak didn’t even turn to look as he said glibly. “You know how it is, things to do, places to be.” He put his boots on and walked to the door, pausing for a moment, his hand on the handle, waiting for Conrad to say something, anything. There was nothing. “Cya,” he said, and then left Conrad behind.

Yozak couldn’t believe how easy it had been.

~***~

Yozak knew he’d not be able to sleep, so he wandered the castle halls, nodding at the guards he knew. It was past midnight by now and the castle was asleep. Somehow or other, his feet led him to the main library.

There was a light under the reference room. His heart lifted, he opened the door expecting to the Sage, but instead it was a certain long-haired assistant, nose buried in a book.

Silly to think it would be Murata, silly to have his hopes of cheerful company dashed. Of course it wouldn’t be the Sage, Murata had a beautiful husband now, he wouldn’t be spending the night of his husband’s return reading books in the library.

Günter von Christ raised an eyebrow at him, he was wearing his reading glasses and the lamp next to him gave his hair the appearance of purist white. He thought about giving some apology and retreating, but the perverse side of him, the one that liked to push decided his actions.

Yozak walked in and picked out a random book and sat down opposite the noble.

Günter blinked at him and then said, voice laden with condescension. “I didn’t realise you had an interest in mazoku glyphs of the pre-Shinou era.”

Which was the most that Lord von Christ had ever said to him that wasn’t work related. 

Yozak looked down at the book – which was, indeed about said topic. “I thought I’d give it a look. I have spare time over the winter,” he lied. He wasn’t going to allow this stuck-up lord any satisfaction. Günter pressed his lips together and kept reading.

Contrary feelings aside, why was Yozak even here? Had he sunk so low that the only way to kill this lingering dissatisfaction was to annoy conceited nobility? Especially said noble who obviously had too much time on his hands. “ _Not that I can talk, you idiot_ ,” Yozak said to himself.

They sat there in awkward silence for another few minutes, as he pretended to read a book and Günter actually did read a book, unless he was just as good at pretending, Yozak couldn’t discard that idea. The vain man was flighty and a first-class snob, but there behind that pretty visage was an excellent mind.

Günter sighed and then pulled his glasses off. “I can’t study with you staring at me.”

Yozak didn’t even bother to deny it. Come to think of it, came the thought out of nowhere, out of everyone in the king’s circle, Günter was the last one single, well apart from the Captain, but Yozak wasn’t going to think too hard about that. He wondered why, it wasn’t like Günter was a nobody, he was the heir to one of the biggest noble families. Was he that obnoxious? It was a mystery, and Yozak loved mysteries. 

Besides, wasn’t he supposed to investigate this family for the Sage?

“Let’s go have a drink?” Yozak asked abruptly.

Günter blinked at him, once and then twice. ‘Excuse _me_?’

“A drink. I know it’s a bit late but a good ale would be nice with it being so cold.”

Günter blinked again.

~***~

Wolfram did not expect to be spending the first night back with his husband babysitting.

Though he couldn’t begrudge the cute sight of Murata holding the sleeping baby against his stomach, baby cheek mashed against his husband’s shoulder. Little Renji had fallen asleep quite quickly after emptying his milk bottle.

“You should sleep,” Ken said. “I’ll be fine with him.” And Wolfram knew that was true, Murata looked a natural holding the infant.

“How often does Yuuri get you to look after him?” Wasn’t there servants for that?

Murata chuckled. “Not very often. Usually it’s Lady Anissina because he doesn’t like leaving Renji with the servants when Lady Claudia isn’t well. Though of late, Lady Anissina is getting a bit tired of being the go-to babysitter so I’ve been helping out a little more, as does Lord Weller. I would have insisted on Lord von Voltaire and Lady Anissina’s help, tonight of all nights, but since they are away this season…”

“We get the baby,” he tried to sound cross but he knew he was failing. He didn’t mind having Renji around.

“Yes.” Murata caressed the baby’s soft downy hair. “It’s not really bad, he’s a good little baby. Very quiet. Would you like to hold him?”

Wolfram wanted nothing more, but he shook his head. “Perhaps not. He looks very comfortable there.”

Murata lowered his head and kissed the crown of the baby’s head. “I should put him down soon.”

They sat there silently on the bed while Wolfram watched Renji sleeping peacefully in his husband’s arms. Renji had gotten bigger since he’d last seen him.

“I wish we could have had made a baby together.” He’d love to have a black haired baby.

Murata smiled. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the right reproductive organs. Though, I think if I did,” Murata gave him a small cheeky smile. “We wouldn’t be sharing this bed.”

Wolfram didn’t bother to deny it. Women weren’t really what he’d been interested in.

“But if you want to have a baby with black hair I can always sire one.”

“ _No!_ ” The baby startled slightly and Wolfram covered his mouth apologetically. Murata shot him an exasperated look and then got up and gently put the baby down in the small cot that had been left with them.

Renji fussed slightly and then stilled in sleep. Fortunately, his outburst hadn’t disturbed the child’s sleep.

“You said you didn’t want to sire one yourself,” Wolfram said more quietly, when his husband got back into bed and they lay there next to each other. With a thought he doused the flame in the lantern next to the bed.

“Not particularly, but if it’s easier for you. I will.”

“No. I don’t want you with anyone else.” Wolfram rubbed his eyes in frustration. This wasn’t easy at all.

“Then I won’t,” Murata said calmly. _Too_ calmly.

“How can you be like this?” he tried to keep his voice down despite his growing annoyance. “Just if- if I couple with someone else…aren’t you jealous? How can you be fine with it? I’ve never been with anyone else but you.”

There was silence for a while. Murata turned on his side and reached out to touch his wrist. “I’m not fine with it. But being jealous won’t make it easier for you, it won’t make it easier for me. If you want a baby, this is the best way. If you want it badly enough, then sometimes there needs to be compromise.”

“Compromise…” Wolfram muttered bitterly.

Murata squeezed his hand. “Would it make it easier if I said I was jealous?” he went on without waiting for an answer, there was underlying tension in his words that Wolfram wasn’t used to hearing. “That I find pleasure in the thought that I’m the only person you’ve had sex with, that I’m the only person who has seen you lose control, has seen your face as you orgasm? It makes me _sick_ in my stomach to think that someone else will see that. If there was another way…and I’ve thought about it, believe me, Wolfram, I’ve thought about it a lot. There are methods from Earth medicine that could work, but mazoku fertility is different and it would be immoral to use it on some woman without knowing how it will affect her. I’ve spent enough time looking into it with Lady Claudia’s difficulties. It’s not safe. I can’t do that, even though I don’t want you with anyone else. This is the only way, Wolfram.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Wolfram said, feeling a sting in the back of his eyes. “When I think about it…you’re the only person I want. I don’t know…” He reached out and Ken wrapped his arms around him.

“I think it is worth it,” Murata whispered in his ear while rubbing his back. “This is my thought, and I would ask you think on it. I think you will regret it if you don’t. I truly do. I’m not saying it won’t be hard, and I know it will be harder on you. But you want a family, Wolfram, I’ve always known this, and if we get past this, I believe it will be worth it.”

“Do you want a child too?”

“Of course, but ultimately it’s your choice. As long as you are happy, I’m content.” 

Wolfram sighed. It was a long day. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have now, he’d wanted it when he was rested, and not after having been absent from Ken for months. But the words couldn’t help but spill out.

“Can’t Shinou do something?”

“No,” was Murata’s clipped response 

“How do you know? Maybe if you ask, maybe-“

“I don’t know for certain. But trust me, Wolfram.” Ken cupped his chin with his hands and even in the dark he could see the seriousness in his eyes.”If in nothing else, _trust_ me on this. Nothing good can come from asking a favour of him. If we want to be truly happy, we need to do it ourselves. There is always a price to pay with Shinou and I don’t want us to pay it.”

Wolfram buried his head in his husband’s chest. It was all very confusing, but there was one thing he knew for certain.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” Ken answered softly.

~***~

A headache is what greeted him when Yozak became aware of his surroundings. A most unwanted painful thumping behind his eyes. That and annoying strands of fluff in his nose. He sneezed and moved his head. That sudden move was a bad idea as nausea threatened to overpower him. For the next few moments he lay very _very_ still, until the queasiness passed.

He laid there for a while, debating the merits of getting up and relieving his bladder and finding some water to quench his alcohol induced thirst.

A sad moan from next to him distracted him from that internal debate, and Yozak cracked an eye open slowly. His vision filled with lavender. 

Next to him, apparently naked, was Lord Günter von Christ. On Yozak’s bed. In Yozak’s room…

“Oh fuck….”

He sat up. Günter was face down, hair fanned all over the bed, which would explain the stuff that had gotten up his nose earlier. Under the blankets, thank all the fates Günter still had his pants on. He could remember now how that had happened. Günter had declared that it was hot, after Shinou _knew_ how many jugs of the ale that Yozak had stashed in his room – and had decided to take his shirt off.

Things had gotten a bit hazy after that. Yozak remembered they had kissed drunkenly for a while, but he was pretty sure both of them were too out of it to go further. That comforting memory, along with the fact he was fully dressed was what stopped him from entirely freaking out.

Yozak wasn’t sure how he thought about being intimate with Günter. Last night it had seemed like a great idea. Now he wasn’t so sure. Nowadays he was old enough to know what he wanted, to take what he wanted, and to avoid things that were...unwise.

In many ways Günter was unwise. Yet for some reason Yozak was drawn to him anyway.

Günter’s eyes blearily opened, pale lavender eyes unfocused for a moment before suddenly sharpening. If Yozak had been any closer, he would have been lashed by long strands of hair as Günter sat up quickly, bed squeaking in protest as he scrambled to cover his chest with a sheet. Günter’s eyes wide behind his long hair made him look like a ravished Shrine Maiden, feeling shame at the breaking of her vows.

Yozak couldn’t help it. He laughed. Günter’s shamed look turned to outrage as lavender eyes glared at him. Yozak couldn’t stop laughing, clutching his side while Günter continued to glare with long delicate hands still clutching the blanket.

Finally, he finished, ending in a few hiccups he wiped the tears that had formed. 

“Are you finished?” Günter said snippily, one hand pushing back strands of silvery hair behind his ears.

“Your face,” Yozak pointed out. Which didn’t really help the situation. “I’m sorry.” He got out of bed, the laughter must have helped his head, for he didn’t feel so bad after all, just a little seedy. “Don’t worry, your virtue is safe.”

Günter sniffed. “I’m not worried about that. Just because I favour modesty does not make me an innocent. Where is my shirt?”

“Here,” Yozak said and pulled it from where it had fallen beneath the bed. “I’ll look away,” he said, a little sardonically as he sat on the other side of the bed facing away from the older mazoku, he certainly gotten more than an eyeful last night, but he knew better than to point that out.

“Thank you,” Günter said primly. 

“Where is the other exit?” Günter said after a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yozak said as he got out of the bed, Günter had put his shirt back on and had retrieved his white robe from where it had been flung onto the floor last night.

“I know this room leads to the secret passageway behind the corridor, Sir Gurrier. I’ve used it a number of times. I’m just not familiar with this section.”

‘Sir Gurrier’ was it?

“It’s not for casual use. I guess you’ll have to risk people seeing you leave a common half-breed’s room.”

Günter looked a little discomfited. “It’s not that, it’s just…I am not in the habit of casual liaisons. I don’t wish people to…to-“ 

“Assume you’re fucking a half-breed,” Yozak said sardonically. Oh well, it wasn’t like he’d expected anything anyway. Yozak pressed in a slightly discoloured brick next to his wardrobe, with a small rumble the wooden panel slid to the right and the dark passage behind was revealed. “Good day, _Günter_ ,” Yozak said with a flourish and gestured to the door. It had been fun for a little while.

Günter hesitated a moment. “Apologies.”

And then, to Yozak’s surprise, Günter turned his back and without further words left via the main door, out onto the main corridor.

~***~

When Murata returned later that morning, Wolfram was sitting against the headboard in his plain cream nightgown, green eyes deep in thought as he contemplated the miserable grey morning sky outside. Murata followed his gaze, if it didn’t snow today, he’d be surprised.

Wolfram switched his attention to Murata. “So Renji is back safe and sound?”

“Yes, and Lady Claudia is feeling much better.”

Wolfram nodded, the ends of his hair were still wet. It looked like he’d taken a bath this morning after Murata had left him sleeping, he had the urge to bury his nose against Wolfram’s neck and inhale that lovely rose scented soap Wolfram favoured.

“Are you going to be busy today?” Wolfram asked.

“Definitely,” Murata said gravely. “Looking after Renji last night has pushed back my schedule.” Wolfram’s face fell, so he continued casually. “I have plans to make love to my husband all day.”

“Oh?” Wolfram asked, a sudden blush on his face.

“Yes.” Murata started to undress. “What are your plans?”

“I don’t know,” Wolfram said, watching him strip under his pretty thick lashes. “I might read a book, or study some of that philosophy you recommended.”

“Oh really?” 

“Hmm…” The blush had spread out over Wolfram’s face. Murata was sure it had spread to underneath the nightgown. He couldn’t wait to see.

Tossing the last of the clothing to the floor, and quickly retrieving the lube and condoms he crawled onto the bed. Already he was half hard and he didn’t want to hide the fact. Wolfram’s eyes flickered down towards Murata’s erection coyly as he made his way across the bed, he could almost hear his husband think “ _How shameless_ ” in that cultured high court voice. “I don’t suppose I could interest you in my schedule, Lord Wolfram?”

“Maybe,” Wolfram said coyly, his face still red. “It depends on what is on the agenda.”

Wolfram made a pretty little sigh when Murata sat himself on Wolfram’s lap, his chest against Wolfram’s cotton clad one. He unceremoniously dropped the ‘goodies’ on the bed next to him as Wolfram pulled him tightly in a hug.

They sat like that for a moment. 

There was something so profound, being able to be so vulnerable, naked in Wolfram’s arms, and knowing with utter certainty that no harm would befall him there, that this was the safest place he could be. Wolfram would never hurt him, it was such a comforting inevitability in a world where uncertainty was a part of his daily life.

It was so simple. So easy to love Wolfram. He allowed himself the luxury of burying his nose in the silk blond hair, to inhale the rose scent and enjoy the warmth that was seeping through the soft cotton.

A hand cupped his right buttock, caressing his sensitive skin with long fingers and another explored his left thigh. Murata shifted a little to give Wolfram more access. 

“You’ve got a little more muscle definition. You’ve been doing some physical training?” Wolfram asked.

“Fencing,” Murata confessed. It was difficult to think too much in this position, now he could feel Wolfram’s erection against his stomach and the whispery caresses around his buttocks were…distracting. The sexual tension was growing between them, the air thick with anticipation. “I got one of Voltaire’s men to help me practice four times a week…it’s good for the mind…to help me…err…focus..” 

“And good for the body,” Wolfram said, and then kissed his shoulder. Well, that was also incentive. He wanted to keep up with Wolfram in the bedroom, it was far more enjoyable that way, and he was all for better sex, even if it meant he’d need to sacrifice hours a week in annoying muscle strength exercises. There was a squeeze of his right thigh. “I like it.”

Murata rocked forward, and a light rhythm began between them. Their lips met in a continuous kiss, hands were all over his back, his buttocks and the dip between.

He made a tiny noise as Wolfram thrust against him particularly hard and Murata choked back a laugh as Wolfram, desire shattering any restraint, pushed him down so he was flat on his back. Wolfram quickly discarded his nightgown and Murata’s body shivered with anticipation as he looked at the pleasing planes of his husband’s slim muscular build.

They had come such a long way from that first night. The confidence that Wolfram exuded here was breathtaking. There were still the occasional lapses into shyness that Murata thought would never truly fade. Murata was fine with that, it made his lover that much more appealing, and all the more lovely. Such a perfect package of faults, kinks and strengths. _His_ Wolfram.

No, he didn’t want anyone else to see this. But somehow… He looked up at Wolfram’s heated gaze, he didn’t think anyone would, not like this. Even if- even _when_ he slept with _her_ , that woman, Wolfram would not be so bold, would not be so transparently open. He almost felt sorry for whoever she was, to have someone so physically close but yet so very far away. 

He allowed those thoughts to vanish, as Wolfram, leaning forward on his knees, massaged Murata’s inner thighs and then bending down nuzzled the joint where his thigh met his groin.

“Wolf…ram.” Murata’s legs opened, an invitation and an offer. Murata had no problem asking, but sometimes it was good to just let Wolfram take over, set the pace. To allow Murata to lay back and be ravished and let his body’s desire dominate all. Very decadent that, so lazy. Yet Murata cared not even a bit for how it looked. Because he knew, just by looking at his lover’s ardent gaze, that that suited Wolfram just fine.

And Wolfram was the only person Murata ever had to worry about.

He groaned as Wolfram took the head of his cock in his mouth, tongue swirling in his slit as a saliva coated thumb moved down under his balls to press against his opening. Murata bucked forward, wanting more. And then, Wolfram pulled away. As if undecided what to do next.

Okay, maybe it was time to be a bit more obvious. Using his legs Murata wedged his feet around the back of Wolfram’s thighs and pulled him in, and then, as Wolfram fell forward, he locked his thighs around Wolfram’s waist, snug against him.

Wolfram fell down on him with an exhale of air. His thick erection leaving wet marks on Murata’s lower belly. “I want you in me.”

“Fates,” Wolfram said as a curse and gave him a look, half way between desire and embarrassment as Murata reached up to pulled him down into a kiss.

He could feel it as Wolfram rummaged around with his right hand, for presumably the oil and condom Murata almost forgot about, though he had to agree they were very essential. Nature had been kind in endowing his blond mazoku with a larger than average manhood. 

Murata thought it was the perfect size, the size filling him up so well, it only was slightly painful until he adjusted, and that little bit of pain added to the pleasure of being fucked. And Murata had always leaned a little towards being on the bottom in sex, he liked the sensation of being pounded. Not that he’d ever say so in so many words to his prim husband…well, maybe later this winter, in the right circumstances, just so he can see him squirm and stutter.

“Now,” he gasped out, as Wolfram lubed himself and then Murata’s entrance. Those long slender fingers was such a terrible tease on top of everything else.

‘Oh, patience,’ Wolfram muttered and then having slid on the condom pushed the head of his cock in. Murata’s head fell back as he focused on the sensation, his hands around the back of Wolfram’s neck. He didn’t have any time for patience. It had been almost three months since he’d been fucked, every cell of his body, every nerve ending wanted. He wanted Wolfram so badly it practically hurt and he wanted him now. It was that raw desire and lust that stole his voice, usually he’d tell Wolfram exactly what he wanted, and exactly how he felt, but these sensations on his neglected body overwhelmed him. He knew it was the same for Wolfram.

Murata moaned as Wolfram leaned down to graze his right nipple with his teeth and then withdrawing, slowly (too slowly, but it was progress) pushed inward once more. 

The entire time he cried out a litany of words. It was mostly his husband’s name, but also little pleas to go faster, to hurry up, and to make him feel. Murata wasn’t fragile, he wouldn’t break, he welcomed the sweet burning sensation. 

He could feel that lovely large length inside, stretching him wonderfully. After a few more half thrusts, the little switch Murata had always imagined inside Wolfram flicked and he started to thrust inward with gusto. Murata encouraged him, hips arching upward, and the heels of his feet pressed against Wolfram’s lower back, pulled Wolfram in with every thrust.

‘Hmmff…,’ he half-gasped as his lips were taken into a fierce kiss as Wolfram rocked above him. He felt warm all over, that initial burn inside subsiding, replaced by a pleasurable feeling as Wolfram thrust against his prostate. The feeling was in perfect tandem with the sweet friction on the underside of his cock against his husband’s stomach.

Murata closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation more as Wolfram pulled back from the kiss, still thrusting in a strong steady motion as his teeth latched onto the soft underside of his chin, his throat and his adam’s apple.

“Oh...love...,” Murata said in Japanese. 

Wolfram moaned at his words and then took him again in an intense kiss, a tongue invading his mouth as a hand clamped around his erection and jerked him off in the same rhythm.

It didn’t take long after that. As much as he wanted the moment to last, to be connected like this, to have Wolfram so wild in the moment and completely shameless, free of doubts, natural inclinations completely unleashed. As much as Murata wanted to keep it all on a knife’s edge, he couldn’t. He came hard, clenching around Wolfram’s stiff cock in a dizzying wave of intense pleasure. And as Murata’s senses came back he petted Wolfram’s hair and face as his husband also fell over the edge. He wiped away the tears that fell as Wolfram orgasmed.

Murata held Wolfram close. He could feel the hot tears on his shoulder. He stroked Wolfram’s back, making soothing sounds. 

More than anything, he felt privileged to see this. 

“I missed you,” Wolfram said against his skin. “I miss you always when I’m gone.”

“So do I.”

“If only...” But Wolfram didn’t finish that sentence, he never did. Murata never wanted him to. As much as it could be lonely when they were apart, he couldn’t expect Wolfram to settle into sedentary court life. Wolfram needed to roam. And as long as he had a home to return to, Murata knew he would be content. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.

And it made their reunions far, far sweeter.

~***~

They spent the rest of the day making love, bathing, napping and making love again. Only once did they drag themselves out of the bedchamber to have a lunch of smoked cheese and ham - Murata’s favourite, and pancakes slathered with cream and honey with white wine - Wolfram’s.

“It’s snowing,” Wolfram said softly. Both of them were under the blankets now, Murata, half-asleep, was using his husband as a pillow, enjoying the warmth and the soft lazy massage of his scalp by said languid pillow.

“Early this year,” Murata said and moved up, positioning himself on his side, half on top of his husband, the better to get his toes warm. He supposed eventually they would have to get up for a social dinner that they were having with Shibuya and Lady Claudia, but for now he was content. They had spoken about Wolfram’s trip for a little while before a light doze, it was Wolfram’s observation that brought him to awareness.

“So we’ll be spending the winter at the castle?” Wolfram asked.

“Hmm…” Murata looked at Wolfram to judge his thoughts on this. His husband didn’t seem too upset. “We can still go to the temple if you want?” They still had time. “But I thought it would be nice, an opportunity for you to spend time with Shibuya and his family.”

The first winter that Yuuri’s son would see.

“You mean an opportunity for me to spend with Renji and get me more convinced about having a child?” Wolfram sounded only lightly offended as he made that statement. Murata blinked, his husband was starting to get to know him a little too well.

“Hmmm…that is partly true. But mostly it was just so you could spend more time with Shibuya and his son. I know you wanted to.” He picked up Wolfram’s hand and gave it a kiss as an apology. He was quietly relieved that Wolfram didn’t seem too put out.

“We should have a child next year,” Wolfram said suddenly, quite out of the blue.

“Oh?” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. Not only at the statement, but that Wolfram would bring up a subject that was even up until last night a bit of a sore topic. “‘It’s not something we need to do so quickly. We have plenty of time.”

Most mazoku didn’t have children until well into their second century like Lady Anissina and Lord von Voltaire. Shibuya and Lady Cherie were more of an exception. Though Murata could understand Shibuya’s reason, thinking still in human timeframes. Having been brought up on Earth, Murata still had troubles wrapping his mind around the fact that at barely twenty five he’d only lived five per cent of his life (assuming he’d live a full life), and he _had_ memories of a long mazoku life. Human social conditioning was hard to abandon.

Murata didn’t expect Wolfram to wait as long as his eldest brother had, but he hadn’t expected it to be that soon. He wasn’t even sure he was quite ready.

“I want the child to grow up with Renji,” Wolfram explained simply.

“Oh?”

“Yes.’” Wolfram gave him a faint smile. “I doubt they will have any other children so that means Renji will be an only child. It’s hard enough that he’ll be the son of the maou, but to be an _only_ child, a child with black hair who everyone will envy for his beauty and social position. He’ll have no siblings to trust, to turn to for protection or advice, and there will be so many false people who will only want to be close to him for his appearance and his father’s position.” Wolfram paused, his eyes going distant for a moment before turning to him. “I want our child to be a true friend, like a sibling, someone who will know him for who he is. Besides, they will have much in common. He will be the son of the Sage.” 

“A _son_?” Murata gave Wolfram a pointed look. 

Wolfram shrugged and shook his head. “I know. I…just have a feeling we’ll have a son.”

“So next year?” Murata asked, not sure what to make of Wolfram’s words. He’d seen too much to discount such premonitions, and really, that was the least of their worries. Murata’s mind was suddenly filled with logistics. Of meetings, of negotiations, of how to approach different women and how favourable their clan would be. A contract, discussions on how much the birth mother would be involved and many other matters. Many difficult topics that he thought he’d have more time to bring up with Wolfram, in a more gradual way. And he’d only just given the list to Yozak. The man was good, but he’d not be able to do much in the capital over the winter period. “We’ll have to find a lady who you can contract with,” Murata said.

It was suddenly getting overwhelming and it was Murata’s turn to get anxious.

“You can put a hold on the list that I’m sure you’ve put together,” Wolfram gave him a knowing look. “Keep it as a last resort. I’ll talk to Elizabeth, she’s due back for a visit in the spring. She’s sure to know of someone who we can trust.”

“But, don’t you have any thoughts?”

“Not really. It doesn’t really matter to me, as long as she’s reputable and tall.”

“Tall?” Murata laughed and got up on his elbow to get a better view of Wolfram’s face, not sure if he’d heard him right.

Wolfram gave him a defensive look. “I want our son to have some height. Do you have any idea what it is like to live with all these giants in the family? My brothers and my uncle are very tall. I don’t want our son to inherit my…my slight limitation.” 

Well, Murata had to grant him that one thing, he’d not grown as tall as his brothers, but he still wasn’t short and it certainly wasn’t any type of limitation.

“You’re not short!” Murata laughed. “I’m the same height as you and I’m not short.” True they weren’t exactly the tallest in most groups, but it wasn’t like they were midgets.

“But, you’re a double-black so nobody cares about that,” Wolfram said primly as he crossed his arms. “I want our child to have all the best advantages in life.”

“And not be short,” Murata said dryly, trying to suppress a smirk.

“And _not_ be short,” Wolfram remained defiant, though he was sure he detected a tiny smile around Wolfram’s mouth. His husband knew he was being ridiculous, but was stubbornly steadfast.

Oh this was hilarious. As serious as the topic was, this was a rich source of endless entertainment. He’d be teasing Wolfram for months. 

“Well, hopefully Lady Elizabeth can give you some advice on a reputable, extremely _tall_ giantess who can help.”

Wolfram rolled his eyes and then pulled him down for a kiss. 

Later on after dinner, Murata felt a little relieved and somewhat hopeful. It seemed like they had turned some type of corner, at least when it came to Wolfram’s feelings. There were still many obstacles but maybe the logistics in having a child wouldn’t be as hard as he’d thought.

~***~

Much to Wolfram’s annoyance, Elizabeth returned to the castle a month later than anticipated. She was most unapologetic in her lack of notice to him on this.

“I got distracted,” she said bluntly as she settled into the guest room just after lunch. She was wearing a plain men’s riding outfit, so different from the more feminine outfits Wolfram was used to her wearing from before. 

“Distracted?” Wolfram knew his voice reflected his annoyance.

“Why, Brother? Did you miss me?” She said in sweetly sarcastic voice as she pulled her boots off. “I’ve only been here five seconds,” she added, now she was starting to sound irritated.

Wolfram gritted his teeth. “No.” Elizabeth frowned and crossed her arms glaring at him. “Well yes,” he corrected himself hastily. He was being honest, he did enjoy Elizabeth’s company. “I…I just wanted to talk about something…today?”

And the sooner he got it over with the better.

Elizabeth’s face softened and she gave him a thoughtful look “Fine, just let me bathe. I’ll see you in an hour in the rose garden, and you better be prepared to listen to all the exciting things I’ve been up to first.”

“Of course…but, can we have it in our rooms? I just want some privacy.” Murata was in a diplomatic meeting with some ambassador and Yuuri which would take most of the day.

She gave him a long searching look, but then said with some pomp. “I’d expect apple strudel with huge lashings of sweet cream, I haven’t been able to find anything like it outside Shin Makoku. Oh, and those chocolates your husband keeps, the one with the yellow crunchy confectionary in the middle that melts in the mouth.”

“Yes yes!”

“Excellent,” Elizabeth gave him a winning smile.

~***~

The kitchen maids loved Elizabeth, so they were happy to make fresh apple strudel for her, and fortunately Ken still had a package of those chocolates amongst those awful picture books he kept in the bottom drawer.

Wolfram pulled them out, giving the chocolates a mournful look. He’d hope to have the rest one lazy winter afternoon, but he supposed sacrifices had to be made. Getting Elizabeth’s opinion on this subject was a huge favour.

They sat in the main room, it was a lovely day, and the mountains could be seen clearly through the large bay windows as they had afternoon tea. Elizabeth had changed into a light blue gown, her hair down with pretty curls. Wolfram had to admit that his childhood friend was exceptionally beautiful, as far as women went. 

Wolfram would have found Elizabeth’s accounts of her mercenary jobs in Cimmaron (spelling) fascinating, though a little alarming with the risks she was taking, if not for the fact that he was distracted.

”You’re not even listening to a word I’m saying,” she said, crossing her arms only a few minutes into her tales. “Honestly, _Brother!_ ”

“I was so, you were talking about escorting that Duke at Lake Mideel.”

“That was more than five minutes ago,’ Elizabeth said flatly. ‘You _are_ hopeless.”

“I-“ he wasn’t going to get into a quarrel about this, especially since…well, Elizabeth was right. “I’m sorry. I’m just preoccupied.”

Elizabeth looked at him reproachfully. With a far more forgiving tone than the word’s meaning, she said, “Is this to do with what you want to ask me? I suppose you better let it out before I can get you to pay attention to anything I say.”

Wolfram sighed. He didn’t even know exactly how to begin. Other than Ken, there was nobody else who knew of what they decided. Of what they wanted.

“My husband and I want a baby.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “And we’re looking for a surrogate. I was hoping you would know of some Lady who is trustworthy.”

“Oh Shinou! Really?” Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth. 

“Yes, you need not look that surprised,” he said in a huff. He never had made a secret of this when he was a child, he’d often told Elizabeth that he wanted many children.

Elizabeth clapped her hands. “A baby! Of course, you _love_ children.” That’s what everyone keeps saying, Wolfram thought. It was an irritating thing, though it was such an inoffensive comment. But it bothered him sometimes, how easily he could be read.

“And the baby will be so cute, just like you.” Elizabeth gave him a cheeky smile.

“What makes you think I’ll be the father?” he asked in a huff, crossing his arms.

Elizabeth laughed. “I’ve seen you when your husband dances with anyone else other than your Greta. There is not a snowflake’s chance in Bandarbia’s volcano that you would allow your double-black to be intimate with anyone else.”

Well, that was true, he wouldn’t deny it. He took a sip of tea to stop himself from saying anything heated, though in Elizabeth’s mood he doubted she’d be offended. 

“You’re in luck, though, in asking me.” Elizabeth looked out the window, her eyes thoughtful. “Fortunately, I don’t know the other women in the nobility well enough to give you any advice.”

How was that fortunate? Before he could say that Elizabeth continued, putting one finger up.

“Except one. Though I can assure you, she won’t accept such an onerous task, though honourable, without some compensation.”

“Well, of course. This is not something we presume anyone do without some financial reward.” This was the realistic scenario that Murata had spoken to him about. He didn’t like it, it felt too much like buying a baby, but he could accept it when Murata pointed out how much a woman would need to sacrifice to carry a child to term. Though, possibly he could have gone without the rather detailed descriptions of female biology in pregnancy and child-birth.

“Oh?” Elizabeth leaned forward. “It won’t just be money.”

“If myself, and my husband deems that a lady is responsible, trustworthy and in good health, then we are prepared to meet any demands, within reason.”

“You’re so very straightforward with such a sensitive topic!” Elizabeth shook her head, though she was smiling. “I think perhaps your pragmatic husband has had a bit of influence on you, though that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Just tell me who you would recommend,” Wolfram said between gritted teeth. He considered Elizabeth a good friend, but she could try him at the best of times. She always presumed way too much.

Elizabeth gave him a warm smile and said simply. “That’s easy, dearest. Me.”

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

Though the castle was big, it didn’t feel that way to Yozak, especially knowing full well he was trapped there for months. All of the seasonal guests had gone back to their country estates. There was little to do during this time other than to rattle around the castle and barracks with the permanent residents. So it was more than obvious that the Chancellor’s assistant had avoided him all winter.

Fortunately, at least for Günter’s reputation, nobody had seen his exit from Yozak’s rooms, so there had been no gossip. That had, on some level disappointed Yozak. For some reason the thought of being linked to the Chancellor’s assistant, even if it was gossip, had been…well, a fascinating thought.

Nothing had changed with the Captain. They were friends again, he doubted the Captain had noticed any change. Yozak didn’t have it in him to be angry at the man. Conrad was Conrad, he’d never change, and it was Yozak who had failed to fully appreciate that. He’d always care for the Captain, and he knew that Conrad would always be there for him outside of his loyalty to the king, but there would never be anything more. 

Now Yozak yearned for that ‘more’. He didn’t expect marriage, or even eternal promises...but he’d wanted _something_. Something he didn’t quite grasp until he’d seen the way that the Sage and his husband had looked at each other. That sense of home.

Why he had gravitated to Günter in the library he couldn’t say. It was quite absurd to expect that the scholar would give him what Conrad could not. Günter was from an entirely different world. A prissy, uptight, pure-blooded mazoku whose obsession with the Maou rivaled Conrad’s – albeit a more dramatic and public version. 

He didn’t know why he was attracted other than the obvious and...at his age, he knew better. He thought about that as he looked down through the window to the courtyard below as Günter went through his daily workout with sword in hand. The scholar may have renounced a soldier’s life, but he’d never given up his sword practice. Without question, Günter von Christ was still among the best swordsman in Shin Makoku.

“Pretty,” the Sage came up behind him.

Yozak gave the dark haired sage a grin. “Pretty is a vast understatement.”

“Many would agree, though as a married man I have no opinion.” There was a joking tone to his voice and they shared an amused smile. “I never thought you to go for the high hanging fruit.”

“I assume that’s an Earth expression?” Yozak asked, he was quite used to the Sage’s habit of dropping random foreign phrases.

“Yes.” Murata pushed his glasses up with his forefinger and leaned against the window sill. “It means pursuing a goal that is far more challenging.” Murata inclined his head to the courtyard below.

’High hanging fruit’. Yeah he could see that. If Günter was fruit, he’d be on the top branches, well out of reach. The Sage was perceptive, and more importantly one of the few people, honestly the only person Yozak could talk to about such things. Yozak had a good relationship with Lord von Voltaire and Lady Anissina, but this wasn’t something he could talk about with them. As for the Captain, the other person in his life who he considered a friend…well, there was an obvious reason why he couldn’t confide in him, not about this.

“Do you think he’s in love with the king?”

Murata was silent for a moment as they regarded Günter, long lavender hair flowing as the mazoku completed a complex series of moves gracefully. “Well, I can’t pretend I can read another man’s heart entirely. But no, I don’t think so. The king is his ‘ideal’, a symbol. Lord von Christ loves Shibuya, as we all do, but he’s not in love. He’s…’ Murata stopped short, as if searching for words, “I think his idealised love protects him.”

“Protects him?” Yozak asked. “Protects him from what?”

Murata gave him a sad smile. “From heartbreak. He’s afraid of being hurt.”

Yozak nodded. He had to admit it made sense, from what he knew of the man. It should be a clear warning for him to give up, to go find that ‘low hanging fruit’. But Yozak couldn’t resist. “You think I have a chance?”

Murata cocked his head, and set his eyes on him, considering. “Maybe, in time, but walk lightly and be certain before acting. Lord von Christ isn’t into casual relationships, or the type who’d forgive hurts.”

Yozak nodded. He had a feeling the Sage was right.

~***~

“She wants accommodation during pregnancy, and for Gisela to take care of her.”

“Well, that’s not unreasonable,” Murata replied. Gisela may have ended up working in the castle because of her father, but Murata considered her one of the best mazoku healers in the kingdom, and quite experienced with women’s reproductive health. Gisela had taken on the primary care of Lady Claudia while she’d been pregnant, and they had spoken numerous times about her health.

“But that’s not all,” his husband leaned back against the marble railing of their private balcony. It was late afternoon, and the last of the sun ray’s made his hair golden. “She wants a child of her own…and,’ Wolfram looked down. “She wants me to sire it sometime in the future, though not for a few decades or so.”

“Would you be willing to do that?”

“If I was to enter the contract. Of course. But…” Wolfram closed his eyes and then opened them, green eyes so transparent and open, revealing how much it troubled him. “It’s not an easy thing to consider.”

“Hmmm,” Murata said. “Not only would you have to repeat sexual intercourse.” Wolfram flinched only slightly. Murata refused to be anything but blunt, sometimes it was necessary. “But then you have to accept that any child she has will be hers.”

“It seems only fair, considering…” Wolfram closed his eyes again. “She says that she wants to be an Aunt to the child. Which…I am glad for. You know I wanted our son to have a relationship with his mother.”

“I suppose if that’s a condition you are most comfortable with, then it would be best to do this with someone who you know well.” 

“Exactly.” Wolfram frowned at him. “I wish you wouldn’t sound so logical, this isn’t just a legal contract. Elizabeth can be trusted, I’ve known her all my life. She would never break her word.”

Murata agreed. Elizabeth was very much like Wolfram, extremely loyal and honourable, hot-headed, though he felt she had become a little more level-headed over the years. He supposed she had to be now, working in the human lands left little luxury for blind trust. Honourable sentiments alone did not keep one alive, or put food in one’s stomach.

Though the fact that both of them were very much alike could also be a recipe for disaster, if this was to happen, Murata anticipated many months of playing peacemaker. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to, but considering the stakes, he would persevere. 

“I agree, but it’s not just ensuring Lady Elizabeth’s loyalty, it’s also about protecting her rights. Remember, you have far more standing than her. She’s sacrificed a lot of her reputation by going against her family and unlike you, she doesn’t even come from the ten noble clans.”

Sometimes, he had to explain how much privilege Wolfram had. Attached to the Bielefeld name and the son of the former Queen he often didn’t realise. 

As much as it often caused his husband pain and attention he’d never wanted growing up, that was his reality. It was easy to forget it, living their lives amongst the elite, though he appreciated that in some ways Wolfram was far more keenly aware of his privilege. That was one thing Murata could thank Shibuya and Greta for. And years of patrol had also given his husband some appreciation for the benefits he had, in education and wealth, though it was an ever source of pride that the common folk of Bielefeld province had good lives. A legacy of many generations of good and fair leadership.

There were many good arguments against the rule of leadership in Shin Makoku, and Murata thought most had merit, but when it came to Bielefeld province, he’d be hard pressed to find any democratic government on Earth with leaders even half as generous and just toward their people. ‘Noblesse oblige’ was not only the accepted sentiment of the nobility in Shin Makoku, it was rooted in the culture, and with the Bielefeld clan it was practically their motto. 

Wolfram seemed set to argue with him, then he deflated. “I don’t like that you’re often right,” he grumbled. 

Murata leaned forward, gently cupping his husband’s chin and kissed him on one cheek, then the other, and then a final peck on the tip of that cute nose.

He was rewarded with that wide-eyed look of astonishment and awe that came whenever he gave affection, as if Wolfram couldn’t quite believe that Murata would even bother. _‘Oh Wolfram, you have no idea how worthy you are of love.’_

So then Murata had to pull him into his arms and kiss him again, this time properly. After a few moments he pulled back. “Of course I’m often right. I married you, didn’t I?”

He felt that the tight hug he got was the best response he could have ever had.

~***~

The contract, Murata felt, was a practice session for the grim months ahead. After much toing and froing, and some sleepless nights, Wolfram had decided to accept Lady Elizabeth von Lang's offer.

The actual negotiation of the contract took almost a day and involved himself, Wolfram and Lady Elizabeth in the study going over hundreds of pages gradually, bit by bit, one mind-numbing dry legal paragraph after another. Three arguments later, one involving a draft contract going up in flames, frequent insults, some tears and at least one tantrum the contract was mercifully complete.

A few times during the day, when nerves were most frayed and curtains were in imminent threat of combustion, Murata had to question the wisdom of their choice. If it wasn’t for the fact that underneath all the spats he knew that Elizabeth and Wolfram were truly fond of each other, and that the arguments though hot would be resolved relatively quickly, he’d have stepped in, stopped the contract dead. 

Murata was glad for the fact that Wolfram had no interest in women, because he was under no illusions that if fate had given his husband any heterosexual inclinations then those two would have been married years ago, though it would have been one hell of a torrid marriage.

The biggest point of contention was timing. Wolfram wanted to have the child as soon as possible, Elizabeth wanted to wait a year.

“It’s better to get it over with,” Wolfram said, hands on hip.

“Says the man who _isn’t_ going to squeeze out a melon through a hole this big!” Elizabeth said fiercely, her fingers in the shape of a small hole. 

Wolfram winced. 

“Thank you very much,” Elizabeth continued, voice laden with derision, “but I decide when I want to fall pregnant. I don’t care whose baby it is, I decide the time.”

“But you’re not doing it for yourself,” Wolfram said, never, ever willing to back down.

At that point Murata had to rescue his husband from losing his eyebrows, or worse. After a few hours of negotiation, they managed to agree on trying in winter. This way Elizabeth could finish up the few jobs she had ongoing.

Murata was relieved when the contract was finalised, and everyone had signed their name. He’d been in peace negotiations less taxing, and he was thoroughly exhausted.

Well, if there was one thing Murata was sure of, well really, two things. The child would be incredibly attractive, and also have a stubborn nature and hot temper. He had a feeling that if fate was kind and Elizabeth did bring a child to term, that Murata was looking forward to an exciting family life.

“You realise,” Murata said that night before bed. “That Elizabeth isn’t tall.” 

“Oh shut it,” Wolfram said after he’d taken moment to get Murata’s playful words.

“Our child will be fated to a lifetime surrounded by giants,” Murata continued in a mournful tone. 

“Owww!” he said as Wolfram punched him in the shoulder.

“Well, at least he is guaranteed excellent vision,” Wolfram said smugly, before pulling the covers over himself and turning away.

“Oh now, that’s just mean!”

~***~

It was Murata who set the contract before the king a week later. Not all contracts between nobles needed the King’s stamp of approval, and it really wasn’t strictly required in this case. Yet, Murata felt that it was best that, considering Elizabeth’s continuing estrangement from her father, that the contract get the personal endorsement of Shinou’s chosen king. Wolfram had also agreed, and was more than happy to allow Murata the task of introducing the topic to Shibuya.

Murata could understand why.

There was still a gap of cultural understanding between Wolfram and Shibuya. When Wolfram was engaged to the king he’d tried his best to overcome it, to bridge the divide between the two, though it didn’t always work. Now, Wolfram had far less incentive to try. 

Gaining Shibuya’s signature would require talking about things with a high probability of revealing said cultural division. Shibuya was still a product of a different world, and this type of topic highlighted that more than anything.

Murata himself wasn’t exactly looking forward to the conversation himself.

Murata loved Shibuya, but he’d also married the man that Shibuya had been engaged to, and had broken up with. To say that the friendship between him and Shibuya was occasionally difficult and awkward, was an understatement.

Regardless of all this, Murata really liked Shibuya. He supposed, though he’d never said it, he loved his friend like a brother. Shibuya wasn’t the smartest of kings, or the wisest, he wasn’t, even to this day, that knowledgeable about state legalities or diplomacy (that task fell to Lord von Voltaire, von Christ and himself), and he wasn’t the best fighter outside of channelling the great spirit of the Maou, even with his great progress in swordsmanship under Lord Weller’s tutelage.

Shibuya was average in so many, many ways. 

Yet Shibuya loved his job, and he passionately loved peace and his subjects. Those facts were undeniable and the people of Shin Makoku, most especially the common folk, loved him for it.

There wasn’t a single person in the castle who would not throw down their life for King Yuuri Shibuya, including himself and his husband, though Murata was doing his damn hardest to make sure it would never come to that.

Yes, Shibuya was average in many ways, and the _best_ king the mazoku had ever had. Murata would stake his entire reputation on that belief.

When he arrived, baby Renji was quite happily playing with colourful blocks and a large stuffed animal under the desk. It was a common sight these days, Lady Claudia was often too ill, and Yuuri often had his young son in his office. The boy was just starting to walk, and he took two steps towards him as he sat in the chair opposite before falling against Murata’s knees. 

“Meee?” Renji said, the name he’d given Murata, putting his arms up. Murata pulled him up into his lap, the toddler now quite content to suck messily on a chew toy that was on the desk.

“He’s getting big,” Murata said as he placed the parchment on the table between them and affectionately rubbed his hands across the soft dark hair of the baby.

“Yeah…” Shibuya sighed. “I sometimes forget he’s there, he’s such a quiet baby.”

That was one thing Murata had noticed, Renji was quiet, but he was a healthy, intelligent child, watching everything about him with those dark eyes. A wise soul. He wondered sometimes, if there was some wisdom left from his last life, it happened at times. Murata had never come across anyone quite like himself, but there were those who retained partial memories or feelings from their past lives, he’d sometimes see that in young children. 

“It makes things a little easier?”

“I guess,” Shibuya laughed. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough, I can teach him to play ball and take him out on the horse. And Conrad can’t wait to teach him how to hold a sword.”

Hopefully, those were things that Renji would enjoy too. Murata didn’t want to think of what it would be like if Renji decided he preferred playing with dolls, or playing dress up instead. But he was borrowing worry for another day, and worry that may never be necessary.

“I want you to approve a contract.”

“Oh?” Shibuya said. Looking a little warily at the pages in front of him. “Should I get Günter to look over it?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. It has no repercussions for the state. It’s a contract myself and Wolfram made with Lady Elizabeth von Lang.”

“Elizabeth? _The_ Elizabeth who duelled me over Wolfram once.”

“Yes, _that_ Elizabeth,” he replied somewhat sarcastically.

“Well, I didn’t know that was her last name,” Shibuya replied sheepishly.

Murata shifted Renji onto his other knee. “We’re asking her to be surrogate for our baby.”

That got Shibuya’s attention. “You want a baby?”

Murata nodded. “If the fates are kind. Yes.”

Shibuya opened the page and scanned it quickly and then looked up at him and said in surprise. “It’s a contract between Wolfram and Elizabeth?”

“Wolfram will be the natal father,” Murata said evenly.

“But...don’t you want a child of your own?”

With considerable more effort than usual he quelled his irritation, being annoyed at Shibuya for some of his unexamined opinions was like being annoyed at the wind for rattling the windows in winter. Besides, it wasn’t like Shibuya was the only one in Shin Makoku with unpleasant prejudices or assumptions. Shibuya’s was just... different, and had a different origin. 

Shibuya and Wolfram were at heart good and kind souls (honestly, they were far more compassionate than he was), if he picked his words carefully, he usually could make them see things differently.

Granted, he had far more patience with Wolfram than Shibuya. He was a little biased that way.

“The child will be mine as well. Just like Greta is yours,” he pointed out.

“Well…yes. But that’s a little different, both Wolf and I adopted her. I just thought, that if anyone was going to be the father, you would.”

“Why?” He knew why, but it was better to let Shibuya spell it out. It was often quite amusing that way. 

“Well,” Shibuya faltered. “You’re the Sage…”

“Yes. It’s not a hereditary role, Shibuya, I don’t need a child of my blood to carry on the position.” Wolfram did however.

“Yeah, but…I just…” Shibuya faltered a bit more before coming up with a quite hilarious euphemism. “You’re manlier! And Wolfram is prettier.” 

“Manlier?” Murata raised one eyebrow. “Traditionally, Wolfram is far more manly than me. He is far a better swordsman than I, and a combat soldier. Though I fail to see how that counts, or how prettiness is a factor either way.” Oh he totally did. He knew exactly where Shibuya was coming from, with all the stereotypes he’d picked up from his childhood. But there was no way he was going to let on. He wanted to make Shibuya think about his assumptions.

“I…really didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry.” Shibuya looked embarrassed and then he put his hand up in surrender. “It doesn’t matter.” Using the candle he melted the wax and stamped it. 

“I’m glad you’re both having a baby, Murata.” Shibuya got up and walked around and picked up Renji. “Heh, Renji, you’re going to get a playmate.”

“Meee,” Renji said and pointed to Murata.

“Yes, Uncle Mee is going to have a baby,” Shibuya laughed.

They talked a little more about some upcoming meetings and Renji. It was clear, athough Shibuya didn’t know quite what to do with his baby boy, that he loved him.

“It’s just not what I expected, you know?” Shibuya said. 

“What did you expect?”

“Well,” Shibuya shook his head. “I thought Claudia would be more involved. But she’s sick so, and I understand that. It’s just not easy.”

“You have the whole castle helping out,” Murata pointed out.

“Yeah I know,” Shibuya said. He had put Renji on his lap after picking him up. The baby had fallen asleep, one hand still holding on to the chew toy. Shibuya kissed the baby’s head. “Maybe it’s not so bad.”

Later, as he left, Murata couldn’t help it, he had to tease his friend as he said in Japanese. “Ne, Shibuya?”

Shibuya gave him a questioning look, sleeping baby in his arms.

“Trust me, in our marriage, Wolfram is far 'manlier' where it counts.” He winked. “And I prefer it that way.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing Shibuya’s mortified face as he closed the door.

~***~

Elizabeth left the capital shortly after, off on adventures in the human lands. Peace and routine once more fell upon their household, but not for long. Things became very busy a few weeks later. The social season was upon them and Wolfram, as always, muddled through. Murata knew his husband did not enjoy the attention that marriage to the Sage brought him.

Though Wolfram loved to dance, it did nothing to erase the inevitable whispers from the crowds in the ballroom, of Wolfram being the king’s ‘leftovers’, even after all these years. Murata figured it would take another generation or so before the rumours faded, but even then, amongst the mazoku social set, such things weren’t easily forgotten. And being engaged to the king for almost five years before marrying the Sage was a thing that people did not easily forget.

He supposed, if Murata was to look at it objectively it was understandable. But he wouldn’t allow himself that objectivity. Wolfram was his husband, he married him because he loved him, and just like all the social seasons of the last few years he endeavoured to do as much as he could to impress that fact on everyone at all public events, or as much as social decorum and Wolfram’s pride would allow him.

Murata would centre most of his dances with Wolfram, and was very careful who else he danced with. Greta obviously, he enjoyed spending time with the girl who was fast growing up to a wonderful woman, and sometimes Shibuya to show the nobility that he held no ill-will towards the king. The dances with Shibuya were surprisingly enjoyable, even if his friend had two left feet and was excessively careful when it came to touching. 

“Doesn’t Wolfram ever get jealous?” Shibuya had commented once as they danced.

“No,” he said. Though the truth was a little more complex. He knew that Wolfram would sometimes get territorial, but Murata would channel that in ways that was far more enjoyable for both of them. 

“He used to scream at me if I so much as looked at another girl.” The beat picked up, and Shibuya was able to change pace almost smoothly.

“Scream?” Murata asked.

“Well, sometimes he really would. You saw. Now he’s different, calmer.”

It pleased Murata to see that people who knew Wolfram best could see an improvement. And it was a pleasant validation from Shibuya, of all people. That they worked, that their marriage made Wolfram as happy as it made him.

The social season came, and went, and then it was Wolfram off again on his patrols. Wolfram was more distracted than usual leading up to departure. If they were blessed with a baby, they were planning on Wolfram taking the next few years away from long patrols. This meant Wolfram had to train his second to take over during those years. Murata also had his own projects to wrap up, extraneous studies and a book he was writing on the history of land laws in Shin Makoku. 

They would commit as much time as they could to the child over the next few years.

“I don’t want our baby to be raised entirely by the servants,” Wolfram had been insistent, and Murata agreed. Murata suspected that his husband was thinking of his own childhood where he’d barely known his father, and where his mother had been absent, buy with her duties as Queen…among other things.

It was naïve to think they wouldn’t need the servant’s help from time to time, but together, in the early years they would spend as much time as they could give in raising the child.

It wouldn’t be easy, but Murata was confident that it would be worth it.

~***~

Elizabeth came back as yet another autumn rolled into winter, her hair wild and her face rosy, flushed with life and vitality. Murata thought her most beautiful at that time. Elizabeth’s choice to work as a mercenary obviously agreed with her. He both hoped, and feared their child would have just as much passion.

“Don’t fret,” Elizabeth said to Wolfram at dinner the next day. Wolfram was visibly nervous and Murata had to put a hand on his knee under the table to stop the jittering of his leg. “I haven’t changed my mind, and I’d be insulted if you thought so. I signed the contract didn’t I?”

“I wasn’t fretting,” Wolfram protested half-heartedly.

They would all be spending winter at the Castle, though Murata wasn’t entirely convinced it was such a great idea. If Elizabeth fell pregnant early it would be challenging to prevent Wolfram from getting on the woman’s nerves.

“Anyway, we can start trying in four days or so. That’s when I’ll be at the most fertile.” Elizabeth had locked herself in with Gisela for advice as soon as she had returned.

“Four days?” Wolfram replied and took a large gulp of his wine. Murata felt like doing the same. Everything they had planned for in the last two years coming to a head. 

Suddenly it all became very real. 

“Four days,” Elizabeth flicked back her hair. “And I better get that suite in the north wing, the one with the large bathtub and the mountain view.” She pointedly looked at Wolfram.

_Four days._

Those four days felt very slow, and at the same time it went by lightning fast. It was times like this, that, when facing events that would change his, and everyone close to him’s life, Murata felt most like a stranger to everyone else, an impostor amongst the living. He had a heightened sense of observing things from outside, observing time flow past as if he wasn’t part of it. It was difficult to detach himself from his past at those times. The topic of babies was upfront in his thoughts. He had memories of babies, of children who he’d raised, of giving birth, of being a father, a mother…grandmother and grandfather.

He had so many memories. 

Wolfram and Elizabeth reminded him of Rufus- to this day he wished he had found her real name, but he’d never been that close to her, their duties and roles diverging often. He remembered her, and her baby, Shinou’s baby…big blue eyes and blond hair. Almost identical to portrait pictures he’d seen of baby Wolfram. And he had no doubt that Wolfram’s child would share those looks. It was strange how some characteristics stayed true within that family for so many generations. Strange for him, and vaguely painful in the way of an old and badly healed wound.

He withdrew to his study, allowing Wolfram and Elizabeth to work out the details. Immersing himself in research to try to shut out all those past memories. Outside the winds from the north wailed, winter had arrived noisily this year.

“I’m going now,” Wolfram said to him, as he studied. Wolfram was at the door, looking pale. 

Outside the winds continued to wail. Tonight was that night.

“Will you return home later, or return tomorrow?”

“Later,” Wolfram replied quickly. His blond husband looked down at the floor. “I won’t stay any longer than required.”

Murata was a stranger to this. A foreigner, an imposter amongst the living and an outsider, the same way he had been with Rufus and Shinou...

Murata shook his head, trying to think of something to say, words that Wolfram wanted to hear as he hovered outside the door hesitantly. It was hard though, to find those words. But this was the choice he’d wanted Wolfram to take, this is what they wanted. Murata wouldn’t back down now, for Wolfram’s sake more than anything else.

“I love you,” Murata said softly. It was true, he did. Though at the moment, he only felt it abstractly.

Wolfram’s eyes flickered up to his. For a moment they looked at each other, his husband looking unsure and nervous, before Wolfram gave a short smile and left.

As the outer door closed Murata leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Willing himself back to calmness as the winds continued wailing outside, whistling around the eaves.

He knew then with a gut certainty, that he’d not given Wolfram what he wanted or what he needed.

Murata went back to his research.

~***~

The winds died down approaching midnight, leaving a strange crystalline calm.

Still chilly, but calm and very still. _Too_ still.

Murata thought, after a couple of hours, that he’d rather have the sound of the wind. The shrill wailing as it blew around the outer stone walls, and the constant rattling of their large bay windows in the main living quarters that could be heard everywhere, would have been better than this dead silence.

Murata looked at the timepiece that was ticking steadily away. Suddenly everything came back into focus, the world becoming real once more. He looked down at his desk and touched the papers tentatively.

He’d hardly made any progress on his studies, and Wolfram hadn’t returned.

Murata settled his quill, and he sat there for a moment. After a few moment he sighed, stood, and walked over to his shelved collection of books. He ran his hands across the spines. Should he read something? He loved reading, but nothing appealed. Perhaps he’d indulge in some of the fantasy shoujo manga he brought from Earth. It was his guilty pleasure. Murata kept them on the bottom shelf of his desk. Wolfram protested that the colourful manga ruined the leather bound aesthetic of the bookshelf (he was right), and frowned on his husband reading such frivolous stories with often skimpily clad boys and girls. Not that Wolfram had anything to fear, no shoujo character, no matter how attractively drawn, could be as beautiful as his husband.

_Wolfram._

He sighed once more, and looked back to his desk. No, the manga didn’t appeal either, and it wouldn’t distract him in the least. He’d eaten, bathed, and brushed his teeth. He was finished with his evening routine, there was nothing else. 

“I should go to bed,” he said aloud to himself. But then what? He’d lie in their large bed and spend the hours staring at the canopy above, waiting for Wolfram to return.

_Wolfram._

He walked over to the study window. There was really nothing to see out there. The moon had set a while back and the light from the bright lantern in the study would mean he’d not see the stars. 

_Wolfram._

Murata found himself on their small bedroom balcony. It wasn’t the highest part of the castle, or had as good views as they had at the temple, but from here he could gaze up at the stars.  
Here, unlike inside, he was grateful for the stillness. His woollen indoor robe he’d grabbed would have been thin protection against the wind earlier. Though, even now he felt the cold. He hugged himself as he looked up at the stars.

Murata loved stargazing in Shin Makoku. It was nothing like Earth. There was no smog, and the small street lanterns from the city below could scarcely touch the sky. So many stars, some big, some so small they were nothing more than one amongst many forming a light trail of white gossamer across the sky. He wondered, as he had many times before if one of them was the Earth’s sun. He’d never been able to work out if Earth was on the other side of the galaxy and the watery trip between worlds was some type of wormhole connecting the two, or if they were truly in another dimension. Shinou didn’t even care enough to find out.

The stars were his constant. A comfort. He closed his eyes. He’d failed earlier, he’d undone months of work in a few seconds by being distant.

Murata missed Wolfram.

He’d spent all evening trying not to think about what his husband was doing, who he was doing it with. Murata rarely allowed himself to wallow in negativity. This was just a moment in time, an unpleasant one that would pass, and a moment that would eventually bring them some happiness, if luck was on their side.

A child would be such a welcome intrusion in their lives. 

Murata didn’t want to allow himself to hope too much, but over the course of the last year or so, Wolfram’s hope and enthusiasm had spread, had seeded itself in him too. He’d never thought he’d have a child in this life, he’d never really wanted to.

But now-

He could hear the tread of boots inside. Murata got back in the rooms in time to see the bathroom door closing.

“Wolfram?”

Murata went to open the door but it was locked and he could hear the shower being turned on. 

Obviously, Wolfram didn’t want to speak to him. In a way, he could understand. There was only one thing he could do. Wait. He got into bed and did just that.

Wolfram spent a long time in the bathroom, and just when Murata thought he’d have to go knock on the door to check on him, the door opened and Wolfram emerged in a robe, hair damp. His husband spoke not a word as he changed into an old cream nightgown, back turned to him. It was the one nightgown that was a bit frayed and worn soft. The one Murata knew his husband wore for comfort.

As soon as Wolfram had gotten into bed the lights extinguished. Murata turned on his side, and tentatively reached his hand out.

“Heh.”

A hand snaked into his hesitantly. There was a gap between them, at least half a metre, only breached by their hands. That gap was much wider than Murata was used to in winter when they slept together. Much wider even in the hottest of summer.

“If this doesn’t work. I do not want to do it again,” Wolfram said in an almost silent voice. The first words he’d said to him.

Murata squeezed Wolfram’s hand. “Then we must hope it works.” He didn’t bring up the contract that Wolfram had with Elizabeth, that even if it was a success that he might have to fulfil it. That was a problem for another day…hopefully many years from now. 

There were many things Murata wanted to ask. Wolfram was not one to internalise his feelings, but the rare times he did, Murata knew it was futile to pry. There was silence for a long moment before Wolfram spoke again, this time with wryness that Murata was glad of. It gave him hope that this moment would pass.

“I do not think I am interested in women. I do not think I would have enjoyed it even-” Wolfram’s voice faded before starting again. “But I worked it out eventually, with Elizabeth’s help.”

There was nothing Murata could say to that. So he only said what was important.

“Wolfram, I love you very much.”

“I know,” Wolfram said softy, though there was an element of remorse underneath. Then Wolfram withdrew his hand and turned over away from him, on his side. The gap between them felt ocean wide, deep and full of shadowy things that would bite if he tried to cross it.

This was something Murata knew he couldn’t force.

He still missed Wolfram.

~***~

“I’m pregnant,” Elizabeth announced simply almost three weeks later.

“Are you sure?” Wolfram asked straightway. They had been ready to go down to dinner when Elizabeth appeared.

Elizabeth gave Wolfram a testy look. “Of course I’m sure,” she snapped. “I’ve only been having morning sickness for the last few days.”

“You should sit down!!” Wolfram said, but the look Elizabeth gave him would have given even the biggest dragon pause.

“Did you get confirmation from Gisela?” Murata asked, and took Wolfram’s elbow gently to stop him from doing anything rash.

“Yes,” and this time Elizabeth did sit down and gave Wolfram another grim look. She did look a little queasy. “If I knew this was going to be how it was, I would have reconsidered.” Fortunately she said that with a light tone.

“You’re having a baby?” Wolfram looked to Murata, as if he was the one with the answers.

“No, a bearbee! Of course I’m having a baby,” Elizabeth said caustically.

Wolfram didn’t look too put out at this, and grabbed her hand suddenly getting down on his knees. “Thank you.”

“Well, it’s not like I had to do much,” Elizabeth said, and then her face went red and she looked away. Wolfram let go her hand also looking uncomfortable and guilty before getting up. 

“Well,” Murata said smoothly, pretending he didn’t see or hear anything awkward, and ignoring the painful twinge he felt. “I’m grateful for the time and effort you will put into with this pregnancy, my Lady.” He placed his hand in Wolfram’s, and was relieved that his husband didn’t flinch away, there hadn’t been touching much since that night. “We’re indebted.”

Wolfram nodded and said again. “Thank you.”

“So I suppose the baby will come next summer?” Murata asked.

“I expect so, if all goes well,” Elizabeth stood up, looking tired she cut the conversation short. “I’m going to rest now, I’ll eat later. It’s been…a vexing day.”

“Do you want me to walk you to your room?” Wolfram asked earnestly.

“No, I’m sure I can work it out myself,” she snapped, and then seemed to check herself. “I’ll be fine, Wolf. Thank you.”

She nodded to both of them and left.

“We’re going to have a baby,” Wolfram said softly after a moment. There was wonder in his voice, and happiness.

“Yes,” he squeezed Wolfram’s hand. “It seems like we will.”

“I’ll have to tell Greta!” The excitement in his voice, and the way he rushed out to find his adopted daughter, made Murata smile.

~***~

The months after were strange. On the one hand, it was evident to everyone that Wolfram was overjoyed about having a child. Greta was overjoyed at having a little sibling, and when it was deemed safer to break the news further, Wolfram’s mother and brothers were happy and supportive, Wolfram had even received a formal letter of congratulations from his Uncle. Murata couldn’t regret their decision at all. But on the other hand, the physical affection that Wolfram gave him had all but vanished.

They hadn’t had any sex. Wolfram would not initiate any, and would tolerate nothing more than simple non-sexual touches from him.

Murata missed the sex. He couldn’t deny it, before the pregnancy they had sex frequently when Wolfram was at home. They were equally matched in libido, and had great chemistry. Even before they had gotten to know each other’s desires and bodies so well, Wolfram satisfied him like no other lover had before.

Time and familiarity had only made it better. 

He knew why Wolfram didn’t want to touch him. Murata was positive that it was misplaced guilt from sleeping with Elizabeth. But that knowledge gave him no easy answers. He wanted to fix things between them, but was fearful that he’d only make Wolfram feel even more guilt. 

So he waited.

He wasn’t sure if it was the best thing to do, or even one that he thought would work. But he hoped, that at some time, if he was patient, that eventually Wolfram would come around. Sometimes, Murata could be a coward.

How long would he have waited? He didn’t know, for it was Lady Elizabeth who pushed him into action.

“Take him away.”

“Excuse me?” He asked as Elizabeth all but barged into his office.

“Your husband. Take him away. For a week, _two_ weeks, for a month, anything, just so he can. Leave. Me. _Alone._ ” She touched her stomach which was now a little bulge. “Every time I eat, he’s there, every time I go for a walk, he’s there.” She put her hands up and walked up and down the carpet in front of in desk in agitation while speaking, before coming to a halt in front of him. “I swear if he had his way he’d tie me down and hand feed me. I’m _not_ an invalid.”

“Ah…” Murata trailed off.

Lady Elizabeth continued on. “Now I am pregnant and have lost my ‘rationality’,” words that were obviously Wolfram’s, he really had to have a talk with his husband about where he got these ignorant ideas, “I might just snap and give him a nasty burn.”

“I’ll take him out to the country for a couple of weeks.”

“Good,” Elizabeth said with honeyed sweetness. “And it will give you two time together before the baby arrives.”

~***~

Convincing Wolfram wasn’t as hard as Murata had thought it would be. There were some worries about Elizabeth and the baby which he was able to counter easily. After all, Elizabeth was healthy, she had Gisela to assist and the companionship and protection of Greta, Lady Anissina and Wolfram’s brothers respectively, and the castle was safe. The safest place in the Kingdom.

It did make Murata feel a little bad, nonetheless, since he suspected that Wolfram was only leaving with him out of guilt. A guilt that Wolfram had not been a very good husband. The big white dragon in the room, so to speak, the unspoken lack of intimacy between them.

Despite that, Murata was still going to take advantage of the situation, it was an opportunity he didn’t think he could pass up. At this rate, Wolfram would never touch him again. Murata was terrified of what would happen if existing state of affairs continued. 

They decided to holiday at the Voltaire Estate, it wasn’t too far away, so they could return quickly if they were needed, but it was far enough to be out of the way of castle affairs. 

The countryside around there was very pretty, mostly tame, but there was one place Murata wanted to visit.

A place that was going to feature in his plans to salvage their relationship.

~***~

“I had no idea this existed!” Wolfram looked around in awe. Wolfram had spent enough time in Voltaire as a child but he’d never heard of this place.

They had ridden from the estate, just before dawn, through the low lying mountain range south of a small forest that the Voltaires had never touched. Murata had directed them through a narrow gorge, concealed by lush vegetation. After an hour the gorge had opened up to a small glade, surrounded by steep cliffs dotted with moss and greenery, but that wasn’t the best part – the centrepiece was a waterfall that fell into a small lake, water clear and inviting. 

“I was afraid that the trail would have been blocked by falling rocks years ago,” his husband told him as they looked around. The horses were content to graze away in the glade. “It looks no different,” Murata continued in a faint voice.

“It’s amazing,” Wolfram said. 

“I think we should eat and then go for a swim.”

“A swim?” Wolfram felt suddenly exposed. It wasn’t that the water didn’t look inviting, but he’d become a bit shy lately of being naked in front of Murata. And it would be too much, to watch Ken in the water, naked in broad daylight…he’d be tempted. He shivered at that image. It had been too long, but it wasn’t what he deserved, it wasn’t-

“Or maybe we can eat after we swim? We ate a little just before going into the gorge, so we can save it till then. Besides, I’d like to get rid of all this grime.” As Murata was saying this he pulled his boots off and without any shame casually removed the rest of his clothing in a cluttered pile on the grass. Wolfram couldn’t help but watch as Ken waded into the water. He admired his long legs and his beautiful tan skin, and his pert backside. “It’s perfect, come on?”

“I don’t think so,” Wolfram muttered and he sat himself on a rock and looked over at the waterfall. He had to admit it was pretty, the mist from the water giving off rainbow hues of purple, greens and orange. 

“Oh? But it’s no fun being here alone.” Murata sounded disappointed, and started to walk out towards the shallow water towards him. The sun was directly above them, and his skin glistened, droplets of water attached to the black downy hair that surrounded his manhood. It was so unseemly for his eyes to drop down to gaze. So lewd.

“Don’t stop on account of me,” Wolfram said primly.

“Come into the water, love. _Please_?”

Wolfram’s resolve cracked, and with a sigh he started to undress, though he was far more careful with folding his clothes neatly on the rocks.

“You shouldn’t be out in the sun without creams, you’ll get burnt,” he grumbled as he gingerly put one toe in the water. Humans got burnt in the sun and he’d spent time before lathing soothing cream into Ken’s burnt skin. He didn’t want to do that today, not when they were going to spend the night camping out.

“Well, go bring the sun cream.” His husband said lazily, face up floating on the water. “It’s in the saddle pack and you can rub it over my back and shoulders.”

He stifled the grumble that maybe Ken should have told him before he’d entered the water but he dutifully went back to get the cream.

Murata was still floating on his back, eyes closed, when Wolfram returned. So beautiful, it stirred up a desire in his body which he was afraid he’d not be able to conceal. He waded in waist deep, only a metre away from Murata, the water was lovely, cool, but not cold and refreshing. 

“Is it deep in the middle?” Wolfram asked.

“Not at all,” Murata stood up, the water was only just below his shoulders. “Is that the cream?”

“Yes,” Murata waded towards him, into the shallower water and turned his back, reaching up to pull his hair aside to allow Wolfram complete access to his back and shoulders. Murata’s hair had grown a little bit long. Wolfram made a mental note to trim it when they got back to Brother’s estate.

Wolfram’s hand shook as he put the lotion into his hand and then rubbed it into his husband’s upper shoulder. If Murata felt it, he didn’t say.

“Hmmm,” his husband said. “That feels good.”

“Done,” he said quickly. 

“Oh?” Murata turned towards him, he was close, wet and naked. “That was fast.”

“There is no pointing in wasting time-“

Wolfram let out a gasp as he was pulled suddenly into a loose hug, the lotion slipping from his hands. Cool hands caressed the back of his neck, and dark eyes regarded him intently. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” he mumbled.

“I miss _you_ ,” Murata repeated, eyes locked with his, and he couldn’t pretend not knowing what Ken meant, or look away.

“I don’t deserve this…” Wolfram took a shaky breath, trying for the willpower to break away, but failing. He said softy, “I was unfaithful.”

Murata shook his head. “Wolfram, I never had a problem with that. There was no faith broken.”

“I… _you_ don’t understand.”

Murata’s hand lowered and his fingers dug into his shoulders, just short of painful and even if he wanted to, Wolfram could not pull away from the passion and intensity in Murata’s eyes.

“I _do_ understand. But, you’re wrong, Wolfram. You do deserve this. You weren’t unfaithful in your heart, and that is all that matters to me.” Murata took a shaky intake of breath and moved in and kissed his cheek softly.

No, Wolfram thought wildly, his chest feeling so tight. There was nobody else who could occupy his thoughts and soul like Murata had, and always would. “That night when I left, you weren’t happy,” Wolfram managed to say, after he was able to pull himself together.

Ken nodded slowly, his eyes becoming distant. “You’re right. I wasn’t happy, it wasn’t something to be happy about. But it’s what we agreed on, wasn’t it?” Those black eyes once more focused on him, searching. There was a rare note of uncertainty in Murata’s voice as he asked. “Did I push too hard, Wolfram? Am I to blame?” Murata sounded so lost.

“No,” Wolfram shook his head. “I think I pushed myself too hard.”

He allowed himself to be pulled into a tight hug, chest to chest. The pressure on his heart dissipated, with a sigh that may have been a sob he rested his cheek against Murata’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Wolfram said.

A hand held the back of his head softly. “There is nothing to be sorry for. You know, I thought today we’d come here and…I’d be able to seduce you while swimming, and…” Murata laughed, again with the thread of nervousness there he rarely heard in his husband.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, though he knew there was far more to it than that. “If you had only asked…”

They stood there for a while, Wolfram trembling as he held his husband tight, with the sound of the waterfall in the background.

Eventually, his husband pulled back, and grabbed his hand. 

“I want to show you something.”

Wolfram allowed himself to be led towards the waterfall, and then through it, the cool water rushed down over his hair and drenched them both. Inside there was another small pool glowing bright green and blue. It was a reflection from the stars that were scattered across the walls and ceiling of the cave behind the waterfall.

It was such an otherworldly vision to behold. With the waterfall thundering behind it was impossible to talk normally, Ken put his arms around him and leaned close to his ear. “Luminescent fungus. It grows in the dark.”

“It looks like stars…” Green and blue stars. A whole new sky.

Ken kissed him lightly on the lips. Wolfram readily deepened the kiss, pulling Murata in and he shivered as a hand drifted down to squeeze one buttock. They were chest to chest again. Here it was cool, almost uncomfortably so, but where his body touched his husband he felt hot. He could feel Ken’s erection against his thigh. His whole body wanted so badly.

“I want you inside me,” Murata said pulling away. His husband’s dark pupils reflected green and blue stars. “ _Please_?”

“Yes.”

This time it was him who was dragging Ken out back into the sunshine, the light so bright after the darkness of the cave. He kept moving, hand holding tightly onto his husband until they reached the bank and then the grass where they had left their clothes. The horses had drifted off a few metres in contented grazing, there were no large predators in Voltaire big enough to threaten them. All was peaceful.

He didn’t dare turn and look at Murata until he got there. When he did, Ken was soaking wet, his black hair plastered to his skull and down his neck, his cock half erect, eyes trained on him.

”Do you want me, Wolfram?” Murata asked again carefully, their hands were still clasped together.

“I said I did, didn’t I?” He muttered. The whole gorge was quiet, by the looks of it nobody had been here for centuries, maybe longer. Certainly, nobody would bother them here but he’d never been naked in the open like this, in the sunlight, his body buzzing with hunger.

Murata let his hand go and then rummaged into the pack, pulling out the things that made him blush more, lubrication and condoms. “Preparation for the seduction?” He asked with light sarcasm.

“I’m a boy scout.”

“What?” He resisted the urge to cross his arms, feeling so exposed. The sun and the warm breeze was already drying the droplets covering his body.

“Oh never mind. Inane Earth reference,” his husband said with a small laugh, as he pulled out an old blanket and then sat down upon it, with his hand held out in invitation. “You’re so beautiful in the sunlight. You know.”

Wolfram went down on his knees opposite his husband, and touched his black hair. “So are you.”

Murata curled a hand around his waist until he was down on his hands and knees, Wolfram’s hands planted on the grass on either side of his husband’s face.

”Come here,” Murata said softly, and Wolfram lost his balance, managing to fall on his side next to Murata. He had no time to complain as Murata claimed him in another kiss, one hand at the small of his back. Another clever hand snaked down between them, unheeded until it was wrapped around Wolfram’s erection and jerked smoothly, and it caused him to moan into Murata’s mouth.

His husband pulled back and said in a breathy voice. “I’ve felt so empty without you filling me up.”

Even after so many years, he couldn’t believe the words that Murata would say, so embarrassing and it being even more bold said here, in bright daylight in the open. 

There was another jerk of those clever hands along his length, now fully erect, Wolfram had to stop himself from pushing forward greedily, wanting Murata to jerk him off until he came. He hadn’t even touched himself over the last few weeks, so it was such an intense feeling, his body starved of touch. 

”I’m going to come if you…if you,” Wolfram gasped out, not managing to finish as Murata brushed his thumb over his sensitive head.

“That’s the idea,” Murata said, and took both their cocks together, taking Wolfram into another kiss as Murata jerked them both off, fast, tight and perfect.

It didn’t take long before Wolfram was coming, followed closely by his husband. He held on to Ken as they both shivered through their orgasm, then brushed Murata’s hand away when it became too sensitive.

“Maybe we should rinse ourselves off,” he said, though Wolfram didn’t feel like moving, it felt nice here, resting beside Murata in the sun. 

“Hmm…” Murata said, a finger wandered up and down the knots of his spine lazily, down the dip between his buttocks and back up again. The hand became lighter, almost ghost like touches across his waist, his spine, the contours of his buttock and he felt himself getting hard again, his breathing speeding up.

“Here,” Murata handed him the lotion and then laid on his back, looking up at him with a half-smile.

“You’re so coarse,” he said, clicking his tongue. Murata was always such a confusing and wonderful mix of casualness and heart-melting tenderness in their lovemaking. Wolfram couldn’t help but love it.

This was nothing like his time with Elizabeth, she had been so soft and kind to him. He closed his eyes tightly, he didn’t want to link the two, he didn’t even want to think about the fact that he now had someone else to compare to, it was so wrong.

“Heh?”

A hand touched his own. “Wolfram?” There was concern in Murata’s eyes. Such dark eyes and hair, also so very different from her.

“I just…I’m sorry.”

“Kiss me.” Murata’s voice was steady and strong, almost but not quite a command.

He nodded. There would be nothing to compare with a kiss. He had never kissed Elizabeth. That thought helped him through the next moment and before long he could only think of Ken, so clever with his hands and his mouth.

~***~

It burned more than usual this time, as Wolfram’s hard length sank deep into him, yet Murata welcomed it. It had been so long, he had craved this feeling, this intimacy so much. It wasn’t pain that caused the tears to well in his eyes, but this feeling of completeness. He wrapped his legs tightly around Wolfram’s waist and looked up into the blue sky above, as his neck was kissed and sucked while his husband thrust inside him, steady and sure.

Time had certainly not dulled his endurance and control, and Murata relished every thrust that hit that special spot inside him. Wolfram had his fingers threaded through his right hand and he squeezed it. “I…love you…so _so_ much…” Murata gasped out. 

Instantly, Wolfram stilled deep inside Murata, his forehead against his neck and then thrust erratically, once, twice before coming. Murata held his husband through his orgasm. He hadn’t come yet, but that could wait, for now he was happy to hold onto Wolfram, here, as the sun touched their bare skin.

~***~

“I suppose everything will change after the baby arrives,” Wolfram said to him later that night. They were bundled together in a bedroll, the stars above very bright. There was no need for a tent, it was cool but the gorge protected them from the wind and there was no sign of rain.

“Oh?” He asked interested in Wolfram’s thoughts. Murata was on his back, looking up at the stars, and Wolfram was on his side facing him, one arm around his waist.

They had talked about the baby, at length. About how they wanted to raise the child, the child’s education, how they wanted to manage the next few years, renovations to the apartments, schedules, when Elizabeth would leave, how long she would breast feed, so many myriad details. But Murata sensed this was different.

“We’ll have another addition to our family,” Murata continued after Wolfram didn’t elaborate. “Things will certainly change.”

“Are you a little afraid?” Wolfram said after a moment of silence. “Because I am.”

“I think I’d be more afraid if you weren’t. If you thought this would be easy. A baby will take a lot of our time, and our energy and…at least for a little while we’ll not have as much time for each other. We’ll have disagreements and argue over-“

“I don’t want arguments.” Wolfram responded quickly.

“I don’t either, but we will. You and I are too strong-willed not to. Disagreeing over children is normal. The important thing is that we don’t let it take over and fester.”

Wolfram was silent a little longer. “I don’t plan to argue. But...you might have a point.” There was grudging agreement there. 

“What if the child doesn’t want to be heir?” Murata asked softly after a moment. 

“What?”

“What if our child doesn’t want to be the Bielefeld heir?” He kept his voice even.

“That won’t happen.” Wolfram was dismissive.

“Sometimes it does.” That was the most wonderful and frustrating part of having children, they grew up to be adults with their own ideas, their own dreams. The nobility in Shin Makoku didn’t allow their children much room for straying from the path set down to them on birth. But it happened, Elizabeth was a perfect example. 

“Not if we raise him right, instill him with the right values.” 

“But say even after all that, he still doesn’t want to?” Murata responded, conceding that maybe the child would be a boy. He knew he was pushing it with his husband, on a subject that was bound to be sensitive, the odds were unlikely, but he really wanted Wolfram to consider it. To plant the idea now, if this became an issue one day. “Not everyone wants to rule.”

There was another pause. “I guess it’s something we will have to work out then.” Wolfram’s voice was short, and Murata knew that perhaps, yes, it would be something that could come up in the future. But the future was like the past, things that should not get in the way of dwelling on living life now, and Murata dropped the subject.

~***~

The labour was only a three hours long. Relatively short even by mazoku standards, but still three hours too long if anyone had asked Murata.

Though, after a few seconds of reflection later on (much later), he’d realised that compared to Elizabeth, whatever stress he was under was nothing. It was always important to put things into perspective.

At the time, though, he’d had little time for much self-examination.

“I cannot believe that she had me kicked out.” Wolfram fretted as he wore a path up and down the hallway. It had only been a few minutes after his husband had been forcibly ejected by one of Gisela’s nurses. “I thought my instruction on breathing was entirely appropriate.” Wolfram made another circuit of the hallway while Murata tried and failed to read the book he’d brought for just this moment. 

“Greta is allowed to help for Shinou’s sake! I should be there too for the birth of my son!” Wolfram announced as he came back down the hall with a beeline in his second attempt to get back into the labor room.

Wolfram made for the door again and Murata grabbed him by the arm. “I think we should go for a walk,” he tried his reasonable voice, even though he knew Wolfram was mostly immune to it after the years, though sometimes it worked. He could understand why everyone else had opted out of waiting with them, but it would have been nice to have some ally, maybe Sir Weller. Even all these years he had a way with his brother that Murata was halfway envious of.

“What.., no!” Wolfram wrenched his arm free. “This is not the time, Ken. The baby could come at _any_ moment”

”Yes and someone will come collect us as soon as that happens.” He stood in front of the door, not so subtly blocking the way. ‘It’s a _nice_ day outside.” 

“Oh fates, I’m glad you’re here,” Shibuya said coming upon them and then shoving Renji into Wolfram’s shocked arms. 

“Where else would I be?” Wolfram said sarcastically as he adjusted Renji on his hips, while Renji did the best representation of an octopus, all gleeful tight hugs and clinging limbs. Renji did so adore his ‘Uncle Woof’. “We’re having a baby, Yuuri!” 

“Oh,” Shibuya flapped his hands. “I know, but that won’t happen for ages, trust me. Anyway, I need to go to this meeting that Günter called up at the last minute, and Claudia is visiting a relative in the city, so umm, thanks for looking after him. Okay bye,” Shibuya said, before Wolfram could open his mouth to protest. Murata noted a brief fleeting smirk as Shibuya turned the other way and dashed back down the hall. 

If Shibuya was a drinking man, Murata would offer him a few bottles of quality whiskey, as it was, he’d have to find another way to thank him as he turned back to Wolfram, schooling his face into one of pleasant calmness. 

“What about some tea and cake in the rose garden?” He clapped his hands together and said once more. “It is a nice day outside!” 

__

~***~

Renji was the best possible tonic for Wolfram’s nerves, not that it entirely eased it, but it was the best that could be hoped under the circumstances.

“Shouldn’t you at least be assisting?” Wolfram said as he took a flower that Renji offered him.

“She didn’t ask for my assistance.” And truth be told, it wasn’t something that he wanted to be involved in. There was a certain distance he wanted from Lady Elizabeth and the birthing process was too close to him for him to be objective. Besides, there was no way he could keep Wolfram out if he was there.

Murata sipped the tea he’d had the maids provide, trying to enjoy the sun and the tranquillity while he could.

He smiled as Wolfram picked up Renji.

“Do you remember the day I told you I was intending to court you?”

“As if I could forget,” Wolfram said gruffly. And for a second there he could see a little of Gwendal in Wolfram, for all that they looked different in some ways their manner was alike. He didn’t think that was so bad, that now and perhaps in time Wolfram would develop more of that steady dedication of his half-brother. 

“It was right here, on a day like this,” Murata said, gesturing to the pagoda. “The day I first thought I could love you.”

Wolfram’s face went red. “You make it sound as if it was very simple.”

“Oh it was. Very simple. Very easy and the best thing I ever did.”

“I thought you were mocking me,” Wolfram said faintly as he put down Renji who wanted to be back on the ground. “But I’m very glad I was wrong.”

It was that moment, as they smiled at each other that Doria came running out.

“My Lords, Lady Gisela ask you come quick. The baby has been delivered, and,” she added with little suppressed glee. “It’s a boy.”

~***~

Everyone was sleeping when he entered the room much later that night after all the excitement had died down. Elizabeth, snug under the blankets was fast asleep. Renji had been placed next to her, on top of the blankets, face up, arms splayed out in exposed innocence in the way only small children could achieve.

Wolfram, was asleep on the large leather couch near, head against the wide arm of the couch, head resting on a prim cushion of his hands.

Murata traced a thumb lightly down one cheek, his husband didn’t stir, not surprising considering how emotional the day had been. He admired him for a moment. His pretty, lovely husband. Pale delicate features only seen in china dolls on Earth, pretty in a way that male humans (or even female) seldom achieved. But underneath that seeming ethereal fragility was the heart of a warrior. The mazoku empire had endured for thousands of years and their military prowess was never to be underestimated, though many of the humans had done that, underestimated this attractive looking race, equating their beauty with weakness.

Murata fervently hoped that Wolfram would never need prove himself in battle, and he’d do anything he could to prevent that.

Murata smiled faintly at his over-the-top internal dialogue. He guessed he’d better drag his husband to bed soon, even mazoku got back kinks.

He went over to check on the baby in his small cot first, and was greeted by dark little eyes regarding him seriously in the glow of the lamp light. The infant boy, waddled in pink had a slight crease in his brow, as if he was faintly worried. Though more likely, Murata thought with a grin, he was filling his nappy.

Murata reached down and let little fingers grasp his forefinger. 

So tiny and little. Murata would ever be in awe of all the possibilities that was to be found in such a tiny being. This was also his future, his and his husband’s.

“I like the name,” Shinou said and Murata flinched faintly. He’d not even felt the God’s presence. He was slipping. “I think it suits him, don’t you? A most appropriate name.” Shinou looked smug, arms crossed on the opposite side of the cot from him.

It was just a coincidence, the name, Murata refused to look further into it. “Wolfram named the infant after his father,” Murata said softly, though he doubted anyone would wake, he had a feeling Shinou wasn’t going to let anyone else intrude on this conversation. “The name has been very popular in the Bielefeld line. Why are you here?” Murata continued, changing the subject abruptly. His eyes were back on the little child who was still latching onto his fingers. So quiet now, this one had screamed half the castle down after being born, Murata was confident of the health of this boy’s lungs.

“I’ve never left,” Shinou said. “I’m insulted you’ve never paid any heed” 

“I’ve better things to concern myself with,” Murata replied dryly.

“Yes, true love and all. I’m most exceedingly happy for you,” Shinou said, though his tone was just a little too syrupy. “And now you have a family, my gangly little Sage is all grown up.”

“Don’t play games, Shinou. You want to tell me something, spit it out.”

“He looks so much like Rufus’s child,” Shinou kept speaking conversationally, ignoring his question.

“It wasn’t just _her_ child,” Murata said and looked up at Shinou who was studying the infant with a strange look on his face, if Murata didn’t know better he’d say it was a wistful look.

Shinou blinked, and then looked up at him. “I’m just here to pay my respects. I have great hopes for this one.”

“ _Shinou_ ,” Murata said, his voice flat and dangerous. “If you interfere, so help me, I will eject you into the void.” And he meant it. He’d find a way, somehow, Murata was nothing but creative. 

“How scary,” Shinou said, completely untroubled. “But my interference isn’t required. I’m sure you can feel destiny in this one, not that that is unexpected.” Shinou’s ghostly fingers reached down and didn’t quite touch the brow of the infant. “I’d expect nothing less of a child of my lineage and one who now holds my old name.” Murata bit his tongue. “Besides,” Shinou said in a flippant tone which underlined the seriousness of his words. “He’s also the son of the Sage’s.”

“He’s not-“ Murata bit his lip, of course this child was his son, his and Wolfram’s. “He’s not of my blood.”

Shinou chuckled, in a way that Murata didn’t like, as if he was laughing at a joke he wasn’t privy to. “He is yours in all the ways that matter. Don’t scowl, my Sage, it will give you wrinkles.”

And then, as suddenly as he’d appeared, he was gone. Murata took a deep breath, and exhaled and the infant made a little cooing noise.

Gently, and most carefully he picked up the tiny infant, eyes a dark blue looking at him in wonder. (Probably will lighten, the clinical voice in his head said which he quickly quashed) 

“The infuriating meddler is gone,” Murata said, resting the child in his arms facing him, a hand supporting the back of the infant’s head. He’d have to examine Shinou’s words later, to go over the possible implications. But he had no time or mood for it now. Though Shinou was right in one thing, the infant did look so much like Rufus’s son, in his eyes and features. He’d only need to close his eyes and could picture it, Rufus holding out her child for Shinou’s inspection, both looking so supremely proud and happy. 

Murata closed his eyes tightly for a moment, letting go of that residual pain and regret that welled up in him, those weren’t feelings that were his, he need not let them take over the now. Instead he focused on the child in his arms. The one that was now, the one who he could hold, the infant who was _his_.

“You are so precious.” Murata said in awe. “Your father wanted you so very much and he’ll move the world for you, you’ll be much loved.” The infant made another cooing noise. “Oh, I apologise, Alexander. I’ve been inconsiderate in not introducing myself”

He held the baby back so he could look into those eyes, his hand cupping the baby’s dark blond hair, those dark eyes seeming wise as they regarded each other and he said in low Japanese. “My name is Murata Ken, nice to meet you, I’m going to be your papa. Please treat me well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry to everyone that this took so long to be posted. A combination of life, my procrastination with a large smidgeon of lack of confidence led to the delay.
> 
> I'm especially sorry to nekoshojo, and appreciate her support despite it all. 
> 
> But now it's done! ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉﾟ


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